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f UNITED STATES, J 

^S ^yrwEWT of 

TOURMALIN’S 
TIME CHEQUES 


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BY 

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F. ANSTEY 


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AUTHOR OP VICE VERSA, THE TINTED VENUS, 
THE BLACK POODLE, ETC. 



NEW YORK 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

1893 



Authorized edition . 


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CONTENTS. 


PROLOGUE. 

PAGE 

On Deck — Curry and Culture — Alternative Distrac- 
tions — A Period of Probation — The Oath and 
the Talisman — Wavering — A Chronological Er- 
ror — The Time Bargain — Tourmalin Opens an 
Account 7 


CHAPTER I. 

tourmalin’s first cheque and how he took it. 

Fidelity Rewarded — Love’s Catechism — Brain-fag : 
a Timely Recollection — The Experiment, and 
some Startling Results — Question Time— “ Dear 
Friends ” — A Compromise 29 

CHAPTER II. 

THE SECOND CHEQUE. 

Furnishing — A Cosy Corner— “ Sitting Out ” — Fresh 
Discoveries — Twice a Hero — Bewilderment and 
Bathos 48 


4 


Contents. 


CHAPTER III. 

THE THIRD CHEQUE. 

PAGE 

Good Resolutions — Casuistry — A Farewell Visit — 
Small Profit and a Quick Return . . .63 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE FOURTH CHEQUE. 

A Blue Moon — Felicity in a Flat— Practical Astron- 
omy — Temptation and a Relapse — The Difficul- 
ties of being Completely Candid — A Slight Mis- 
understanding — The Avenging Orange . . 78 


CHAPTER V. 

PERIODIC DRAWINGS. 

A Series of Cheques — Their Advantages and Draw- 
backs — An Unknown Factor — Uncompleted 
Confidences — Ibsen, with Intervals — A Disap- 
pointment — A “Search Question” from Sophia 
— Confidence Restored 93 


CHAPTER VI. 

FOIL AND COUNTERFOIL. 

The Duties of Authorship — Peter’s Continued Per- 
versity and its Unforeseen Results — “ Alfred ” — 

The Tragic Note — An Interrupted Crisis — A Do- 
mestic Surprise 114 


Contents. 


5 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE CULMINATING CHEQUE. 


PAGE 

Sophia Gives an Explanation, and Requests One — 

Her Verdict — Peter Overruled .... 130 


CHAPTER VIII. 

PAID IN HIS OWN COIN. 

In Suspense — A Gleam of Comfort — Darkness Re- 
turns — The Rock Ahead — Sir William Lends his 
Binocular — Reappearance of an Old Enemy — A 
New Danger — Out of the Frying-pan . . 146 


CHAPTER IX. 

COMPOUND INTEREST. 

Back to the Fire Again — A Magnanimous Return — 
Catching at Straws — Two Total Strangers — 
Purely a Question of Precedence — “ Hemmed 
in ” and “ Surrounded ” — The Last Chance . 163 


CHAPTER X. 

Denouement 185 


THE EPILOGUE . 


. 190 










































TOURMALIN’S TIME CHEQUES. 


THE PROLOGUE. 

On Deck. — Curry and Culture.— Alternative Distractions. 
— A Period of Probation. — The Oath and the Talis- 
man . — Wavering. — A Chronological Error. — The Time 
Bargain. — i Tourmalin Opens an Account. 

Mr. Peter Tourmalin was sitting, or rather 
lying, in a steamer-cliair, on the first-class sa- 
loon-deck of the P. and O. ship Boomerang , 
which had not been many days as yet on the 
voyage home from Sydney. He had been 
trying to read ; but it was a hot morning, and 
the curry, of which he had partaken freely 
at breakfast, had made him feel a little heavy 
and disinclined for mental exertion just then, 
particularly as Buckle’s History of Civiliza- 
tion , the first volume of which he had brought 


8 


tourmalin’s time tJjeqnes. 


up from tlie ship’s library, is not exactly light 
literature at any time. 

He wanted distraction of some sort, but he 
could not summon up sufficient energy to rise 
and pace the deck, as his only acquaintance on 
board, a Mr. Perkins, was doing with a breezy 
vigor which Tourmalin found himself feebly 
resenting. 

Another alternative was open to him, it is 
true : not far away were other deck-chairs, in 
which some of the lady passengers were read- 
ing, writing, and chatting more or less lan- 
guidly. There were not very many on board 
— for it was autumn, a time at which liome- 
wardbound vessels are not apt to be crowded 
— but even in that small group there were 
one or two with whom it might have seemed 
possible to pass a little time in a pleasant and 
profitable manner. For instance, there was 
that tall, graceful girl in the navy-blue skirt, 
and the striped cotton blouse confined at her 
slender waist by a leathern belt. (Tourmalin, 
it should be mentioned, was in the habit of 
noticing the details of feminine costume.) She 
had regular features, gray eyes which lighted 
up whenever she spoke, and an expression of 


®l)e prologue. 


9 


singular nobility and sweetness ; her fair liair 
was fastened up in loose gleaming masses un- 
der her highly becoming straw hat. 

Peter watched her surreptitiously, from time 
to time, from behind the third page of Buckle. 
She was attempting to read a novel ; but her 
attention, like his own, wandered occasionally, 
and he even fancied that he surprised her 
now and then in the act of glancing at himself 
with a certain interest. 

Near her was another girl, not quite so tall, 
and darker, but scarcely less pleasing in appear- 
ance. She wore a cool-looking pink frock, 
and her luxuriant bronze tresses were set off 
by a simple white flannel cap. She held some 
embroidery in her listless fingers, but was prin- 
cipally occupied in gazing out to sea with a 
wistful and almost melancholy expression. 
Her eyes were soft and brown, and her feat- 
ures piquantly irregular; giving Peter, who 
considered himself no mean judge of female 
character, the impression of a highly emo- 
tional and enthusiastic temperament. He 
thought he saw signs that she also honored 
him by her notice. 

Peter was a fiat-headed little man, with 


10 


tourmalin's time Cheques. 


weak eyes and flaxen hair; but even flat- 
headed little men may indulge these fancies 
at times, without grossly deceiving themselves. 
He knew, as one does learn such things on 
board ship, that the name of the first young 
lady was Tyrrell, and that she was the daugh- 
ter of a judge who had been spending the 
Long Vacation in a voyage to recruit his 
health. Of the other, he knew no more than 
that she was a Miss Davenport. 

At present, however, he had no personal 
acquaintance with either of them, and, in fact, 
as has already been said, knew nobody on 
board to speak to, except the energetic Mr. 
Perkins, a cheery man with a large fund of 
general information, who was going home on 
some business connected with a banking house 
in Melbourne. 

And yet it is not difficult to make acquaint- 
ances on board ship, if a man cares to do so ; 
accident or design will provide opportunities 
in plenty, and two or three days at sea are 
equivalent to at least as many weeks on shore. 
And Peter being quite aware of these facts, 
and by no means indifferent to the society of 
the other sex, which, indeed he considered 


&l)e JJroloQttc. 


11 


more interesting than that of his own, it 
would seem that he must have had some strong 
reason for having kept studiously apart from 
the social life on board the Boomerang. 

He had a reason, and it was this : he was 
an engaged man, and on his probation. A 
bachelor, still under thirty, of desultory hab- 
its which unfitted him to shine in any pro- 
fession, he had a competency — that refuge of 
the incompetent — which made him independ- 
ent. 

Some months previously he had had the 
good fortune to meet with a lady somewhat 
his junior in years, but endowed with charms 
of mind and character which excited his ad- 
miration and reverence. He recognized that 
she supplied the qualities in which he felt him- 
self deficient; he was weary of the rather 
purposeless life he had led. He wanted a wife, 
who would regulate and organize his exist- 
ence; and Miss Sophia Pinceney, with her 
decision and her thoroughness, was eminently 
the person to do it. So it was not long be- 
fore he took courage and proposed to her. 

Miss Pinceney, though she had been highly 
educated, and possessed a considerable fortune 


12 


ftourmalin’s ®ime Cheques. 


of lier own, was bj no means inclined to look 
unfavorably upon such a suitor. He might not 
be quite her intellectual equal, but he was anx- 
ious to improve his mind. He was amiable 
and amenable, and altogether likely, under care- 
ful guidance, to prove an excellent husband. 

But she was prudent, and reason told her 
that the suddenness of Peter’s passion was no 
guarantee of its enduring qualities. She had 
heard and seen too much of a rather catholic 
susceptibility in his nature, to feel it safe to in- 
cur so grave a risk as marriage until she had 
certain proof that his attachment to her was 
robust enough to bear the severest test ; and 
to that test she w r as determined to submit him. 

She consented to an engagement on one 
condition, that he was to take a long voyage. 
If he returned in the same mind, she would 
be sufficiently sure of his constancy to marry 
him as soon as he wished : if he did not, her 
misgivings would be amply justified. There 
was very little sentiment about Sophia; she 
took a practical and philosophical view of 
the marriage union, as became a disciple of 
Ibsen. 

“ I like you, Peter,” she told him frankly ; 


®l)e prologue. 


13 


“ you have many qualities that endear you to 
me, but I don’t feel that I can depend upon 
you at present. And from what I know of 
you, I fear it is only too probable that ab- 
sence and the attractive society of a passen- 
ger-ship may lead you to discover that you 
have mistaken the depth of the feeling you 
entertain for me.” 

“ But look here, Sophia,” he had expostu- 
lated ; “if you’re afraid of that, why do you 
make me go ? ” 

“ Because,” she had replied, with her ad- 
mirable common sense, “ because, if my fears 
should prove to be unhappily only too well- 
founded, I shall, at least, have made the dis- 
covery before it is too late.” 

And, in spite of all his protests, Peter had 
to go. Sophia sought to reconcile him to 
this necessity by pointing out the advantages 
of travel, the enlarging effect it would have 
upon his mind, and the opportunities a long 
sea-voyage afforded for regular and uninter- 
rupted study on the lines she had already 
mapped out for him; but despite these con- 
solations, he went away in low spirits. When 
the moment came for parting, even the strong- 


14 


tourmalin’s time tl)eques. 


minded Sophia was seized with a kind of 
compunction. 

“ Something tells me, Peter,” she said, “ that 
the ordeal will prove too much for you : in 
spite of your good resolutions, you will sooner 
or later be drawn into some flirtation which 
will make you forget me. I know you so well, 
Peter ! ” 

“ I wish you could show a little more confi- 
dence in me,” he had answered in a wounded 
tone. “ Since I met you, Sophia, I have 
ceased to be the butterfly I was. But as you 
seem to doubt me, it may relieve your mind 
if I promise faithfully that, while I am away 
from you, I will never, under any induce- 
ment, allow myself to overstep the limits of 
the most ordinary civility toward any woman 
with whom I may be brought in contact. I 
swear it, Sophia ! Are you satisfied now \ ” 

Perhaps he had a secret prevision that 
a time might come when this oath would 
prove a salutary restraint upon his straying 
fancy, and it certainly had an immediate and 
most reassuring effect upon Sophia. 

Tourmalin had gone out to Australia, had 
seen something of the country during his stay 


®l)e prologue. 


15 


in the colony, and was now, as we have seen, 
on liis return ; and during the whole time his 
oath, to his great credit, had been literally and 
faithfully kept. 

During the voyage out, he had been too per- 
sistently unwell to be inclined to dally with 
sentiment ; but in his subsequent wanderings, 
he had avoided, or rather escaped, all inter- 
course with any Colonial ladies who might 
by any possibility affect his allegiance to 
Sophia, whose image consequently still held 
undisputed possession of his heart. 

In case he should feel himself wavering at 
any time, he had been careful to provide 
himself with a talisman in the shape of a 
photograph, the mere sight of which would 
be instantly effectual. But somehow, since 
he had been on board the Boomerang , the 
occasions on which he had been driven to 
refer to this photograph had been growing 
more and more frequent ; while, at the same 
time, he had a tormenting consciousness that 
it took an increasingly longer time to work. 

He brought it out now, and studied it at- 
tentively. It was the likeness of a girl with- 
out any great pretensions to beauty, with dark 


1G 


tourmalin’s time tljeqncs. 


liair rolled neatly back from a massive brow 
that shone with intellectuality; penetrating 
eyes, whose keenness was generally tempered 
by folding glasses ; a large, firm mouth, and 
a square chin ; altogether, the face of a young 
woman who would stand no trifling. 

He put it back respectfully in his pocket ; 
but the impulse to go across and drop, in an 
accidental fashion, into a vacant seat near one 
of those two girls was still unconquered. He 
was feeling so dull ; he had got such a very 
little way into the History of Civilization , a 
work which he was reading rather for Sophia’s 
satisfaction than his own, and there was such 
a lot more of it ! Might he not allow him- 
self a brief holiday, and beguile the long 
weary morning with a little cheerful conver- 
sation 'i It was most unlikely, strict etiquette 
being by general consent suspended on board 
ship, that either young lady would resent a 
hazarded remark — at all events, he could but 
try. 

But then his oath — his rash and voluntary 
oath to Sophia — what of that 1 He had not, 
it was true, debarred himself from ordinary 
civility ; but could he be sure of keeping 


®l)e prologue. 


17 


always within those bounds if the acquaint- 
anceship was once established ? He had rea- 
sons for doubting this very seriously. And, be- 
sides, had not Sophia more than hinted in her 
last letter that, as a reward for his fidelity, 
she might join the ship at Gibraltar with her 
mother, and so put an earlier end to his term 
of probation? He could not be too careful. 
After holding out so long, it would be mad- 
ness to relax his precautions now. Ho, he 
would resist these Sirens, like a modern Ulysses ; 
though, in the latter’s case, the Sirens were not 
actually on board, and, even then, the hero 
had to be lashed to the mast. But Tourmalin 
felt confident, notwithstanding, that he would 
prove at least as obdurate as the wily Greek. 

He was not a strong-minded man ; but he 
had one quality which is almost as valuable 
a safeguard against temptation as strength of 
mind — namely, timidity. 

His love for his betrothed was chastened 
by a considerable dash of awe, and he was re- 
solved not to compromise himself in her eyes 
just for the sake of a little temporary distrac- 
tion. 

At this point of his deliberations he looked 
2 


18 


ftourmaiin’s ftitne Cheque©. 


at liis watch : it was close upon twelve ; only 
one hour to be got through before tiffin. 
Why, an hour was nothing ; he could surely 
contrive to kill it over Buckle ! A little 
courage, a little concentration, and he would 
certainly attain to an interest in “ the laws 
which govern human actions.” 

The ship’s bells were just striking ; he 
counted the strokes: one, two, three, four, 
five — and no more ! There must be some 
mistake ; it could not possibly be only half- 
past ten. Why, it was hours since break- 
fast ! 

“ Looking at your watch, eh ? ” said his 
friend Perkins, as he reached Peter’s chair 
for about the hundredth time. “ Ah ! you’re 
fast, I see. Haven’t altered your watch yet ? 
They’ve put the ship’s clock back again this 
morning ; nearly half an hour it was this 
time — it was rather less yesterday and the day 
before : we shall go on gaining so much extra 
time a day, I suppose, till we get to Gib.” 

“You don’t mean to tell me that!” ex- 
claimed Peter, with a half-suppressed groan. 
If the time had seemed tedious and inter- 
minable enough before, how much more so 


®t)e JJrologne. 


19 


was it now ! How infinitely greater would the 
effort be to fix his thoughts resolutely on 
Buckle, and ignore the very existence of his 
distracting neighbors, now that it was to be 
daily prolonged in this exasperating manner ! 

“ You don’t seem to appreciate the arrange- 
ment ? ” remarked the Manager, as he allowed 
himself to drop cautiously — for he was a bulky 
man — into a hammock-chair beside Tourmalin. 

“ Appreciate it ! ” said Peter, with strong 
disgust. “ Aren’t there enough half-hours, 
and confoundedly long ones, too, in the day as 
it is, without having extra ones forced on you 
like this 1 And giving it to us in the day- 
time, too ! They might at least put the clock 
back at night, when it wouldn’t so much mat- 
ter. I do think it’s very bad management, I 
must say ! ” 

His companion began a long explanation 
about the meridian, and sun’s time, and ship’s 
time, and Greenwich time, to which Peter 
gave but a very intermittent attention, so stu- 
pefied did he feel at this unwelcome discovery. 

“ It’s a curious thing to think of,” the 
other was saying thoughtfully, “ that a man 
by simply making a voyage like this, should 


20 


tourmalin's time tljexjues. 


make a clear gain of several hours which he 
would never have had at all if he had stayed 
at home ! ” 

“ 1 would much rather be without them,” 
said Peter. “ I find it quite difficult enough 
to spend the time as it is ; and how on earth 
I can spend any more, I don’t know ! ” 

“ Why spend it, then ? ” asked his friend 
quietly. 

“ What else am I to do with it ? ” 

“ What else ? See here, my friend ; when 
you have an amount of spare cash that you’ve 
no immediate use for, you don’t let it lie idle 
at home, do you? You pay it in to your 
credit at a bank, and let it remain on deposit 
till you do want it — eh ? Well, then, why not 
treat your spare time as you would your spare 
cash. Do you see what I mean ? ” 

“Not altogether,” confessed Peter, consid- 
erably puzzled. 

“ It’s simple enough nowadays. For in- 
stance, the establishment I have the honor to 
be connected with — the Anglo- Australian Joint 
Stock Time Bank, Limited — confines itself, as 
you are doubtless aware, almost entirely to that 
class of business.” 


prologue. 


21 


“ Ah ! ” said Peter, no more enlightened 
than before, “does it indeed? Would you 
mind explaining what particular class of busi- 
ness it carries on ? I don’t quite under- 
stand.” 

“Bless my soul, sir!” said the Manager, 
rather irritably, you must be uncommonly ig- 
norant of financial matters not to have heard 
of this before ! However, I will try to make 
it clear to you. I dare say you have heard 
that ‘Time is money?’ Yery well, all our 
operations are conducted on that principle. 
We are prepared to make advances, on good 
security of course, of time to almost any 
amount ; and we are simply overwhelmed with 
applications for loans. Business men, as you 
may know, are perpetually pressed for time, 
and will consent to almost anything to obtain 
it. Our transactions in time, sir, are immense. 
Why, the amount of Time passing through our 
books annually during the last ten years, aver- 
ages — ah ! about sixty centuries ! That’s pret- 
ty well, I think, sir ? ” 

He was so perfectly business-like and seri- 
ous that Peter almost forgot to see anything 
preposterous in what he said. 


22 


tourmalin’s time tljequcs. 


“ It sounds magnificent,” he said politely ; 
“ only you see, I don’t want to borrow any 
time myself. I’ve too much on my hands al- 
ready.” 

“ Just so,” said the Manager ; “ hut if you 
will kindly hear me out, I am coming to that. 
Lending time is only one side of our business ; 
we are also ready to accept the charge of any 
spare time that customers may be willing to 
deposit with us, and, with our experience and 
facilities, I need hardly say that we are able to 
employ it to the best advantage. Now, say, 
for example, that you wish to open an account 
with us. Well, we’ll take these spare half- 
hours of yours that are only an encumbrance 
to you at present, and if you choose to allow 
them to remain on deposit, they will carry in- 
terest at five per cent, per month ; that is, five 
minutes on every hour and three quarters 
roughly, for each month, until you withdraw 
them. In that way alone, by merely leaving 
your time with us for six months you will gain 
— now, let me see — over three additional hours 
in compound interest on your original capital 
of ten hours or so. And no previous notice 
required before withdrawal ! Let me tell you, 


)c prologue. 


23 


sir, you will not find many banks do business 
on such terms as that ! ” 

“ No,” said Peter, who could not follow all 
this arithmetic, “ so I should imagine. Only, 
I don’t quite see, if you will pardon my saying 
so, what particular advantage I should gain if 
I did open an account of this sort.” 

“You don’t? You surprise me, you really 
do ! Here are you, with these additional hours 
lying idle on your hands; you didn’t expect 
’em, and don’t want ’em. But how do you 
know that you mayn't be glad of ’em at some 
time or other ? Just think how grateful you 
might be hereafter, if you could get back a 
single one of these half-hours which you find 
so tedious now. Half an hour on board a fine 
ship like this, splendid weather, bracing sea- 
air, perfect rest, pleasant company, and so on 
— why, you’d be willing to pay any money for 
it ! Well, bank your extra time ; and you can 
draw every individual hour in quarters, halves, 
or wholes, when you please and as you please. 
That's the advantage of it, sir ! ” 

“ I think I see,” said Peter ; “ only how am 
I to make the deposit in the first instance ? ” 

“ That’s easily arranged. The captain can’t 


24 


tourmalin’s time toques. 


compel you to accept the time now by merely 
putting back the hands of the clock, can he ? 
So all you have to do is to abstain from alter- 
ing your watch so long as you are on board, 
and to fill up a little form ; after which I 
shall be happy to supply you with a book 
of Time Cheques, which you can fill up and 
present whenever you wish to spend a given 
number of minutes in the pleasantest possible 
of ways.” 

“ But where am I to present these cheques ? ” 
inquired Peter. 

“Oh!” said the Manager, “there will be 
no difficulty whatever about that. Any clock 
will cash it for you — provided, of course, that 
it hasn’t stopped. You merely have to slip 
your cheque underneath or behind it, and you 
will at once be paid whatever amount of time 
the cheque is drawn for. I can show you one 
of our forms if you like ? ” 

Here he brought out a bulky leather case, 
from which he extracted a printed document, 
which he handed to Peter. 

Peter, however, being naturally cautious, 
felt a hesitation which he scarcely liked to 
confess. 


Prologue. 


25 


“ You see,” lie said, “ the fact is, I should 
like to know first . . . I’ve never been engaged 
in a — a transaction of this kind before ; and, 
well — what 1 mean is, do I incur any risk of 
— er — a supernatural character? ... It isn’t 
like that business of Faust’s, eh, don’t you 
know ? ” 

The Manager took back the paper with an 
abruptness which showed that his temper was 
ruffled by this suspicion. 

“ My good sir ! ” he said, with a short 
offended laugh, “ don’t, on any account, im- 
agine that I care two pins whether you be- 
come a depositor or not. I dare say our house 
will continue to exist without your account. 
As for liability, ours is a limited concern ; and, 
besides, a deposit would not constitute you 
a shareholder. If you meant anything more 
— well, I have still to learn that there’s any- 
thing diabolical about me, sir ! I simply 
thought I was doing you a good turn by mak- 
ing the suggestion ; and, besides, as a business 
man, I never neglect any opportunity, how- 
ever small. But it’s entirely as you please, 
I’m sure.” 

There was nothing in the least demoniacal, 


26 


tourmalins tirno tljerjues. 


even in liis annoyance, and Peter was moved 
to contrition and apology. 

“ I — I really beg your pardon ! ” he said. 
“ I do hope I haven’t offended you ; and, if 
you will allow me, I shall consider it a personal 
favor to be allowed to open an account with 
your bank. It would certainly be a great 
convenience to draw some of this superfluous 
time at some future day, instead of wasting it 
now. Where do I sign the form ? ” 

The Manager was appeased ; and produced 
the form once more, indicating the place for 
the signature, and even providing a stylo- 
graph-pen for the purpose. It was still some- 
what of a relief to Peter’s mind to find that 
the ink it contained was of the ordinary black 
hue. 

“ And now, about cheques,” said his friend, 
after the signature had been obtained. “ How 
many, do you think you would require? I 
should say that, as the deposit is rather small, 
you will find fifty more than sufficient ? We 
shall debit you with fifty seconds to cover 
the cheque-book. And we always recommend 
‘ bearer ’ cheques as, on the whole, more con- 
venient.” 


®l)c IProtogtte. 


27 


Peter said lie would have fifty bearer 
cheques, and was accordingly given an oblong 
gray-green book, which, except that it was a 
trifie smaller, was in nowise different, out- 
wardly, from an ordinary cheque-book. Still, 
his curiosity was not completely satisfied. 

“ There is just one question more,” he said. 
“When I draw this time, where will it be 
spent ? ” 

“ Why, naturally, on board this ship,” ex- 
plained the Manager. “ You see that the time 
you will get must necessarily be the extra 
time to which you are entitled by virtue of 
your passage, and which you would have 
spent as it accrued if you had not chosen to 
deposit it with us. By the way, when you are 
filling up cheques, we much prefer not to be 
called upon to honor drafts for less than fifteen 
minutes ; as much more as you like, but not 
less. Well, then, we may consider that settled. 
I am extremely glad to have had the oppor- 
tunity of obliging you ; and I think I can 
promise that you will have no reason to re- 
pent of having made such a use of your time. 
I’ll wish you good-by for the present, sir ! ” 

The Manager resumed his hygienic tramp 


28 


&0urmalin's ®ime (Eijcqttes. 


round the deck, leaving Peter with the cheque- 
book in his hand. He was no longer sur- 
prised : now that he was more familiar with 
the idea, it seemed a perfectly natural and 
matter-of-fact arrangement ; he only wondered 
that he had never thought of so obvious a 
plan before. And it was an immense relief 
to know that he had got rid of his extra hours 
for the present, at all events, and that he could 
now postpone them to a period at which they 
would be a boon rather than a burden. 

And very soon he put the cheque-book 
away, and forgot all about it. 


THE STOEY. 


CHAPTER I. 

tourmalin’s first cheque, and how he 

TOOK IT. 

Fidelity Rewarded. — Love’s Catechism. — Bram-fag . — 
A Timely Recollection. — The Experiment , and some 
startling Results. — Question Time . — “ Bear Friends 
— A Compromise. 

Peter Tourmalin's probation was at an end, 
and, what was more, lie had come through 
the ordeal triumphantly. How he managed 
this, he scarcely knew ; no doubt he was aided 
by the consciousness that the extra hours which 
he felt himself most liable to mis-spend had 
been placed beyond his disposal. At all events, 
when he met Sophia again, he had been able 
to convince her that her doubts of his con- 


30 


tourmalin’s time toques. 


stancy, even under the most trying conditions, 
were entirely undeserved. Now he was re- 
ceiving his recompense : his engagement to 
Sophia was no longer conditional, but a recog- 
nized and irrevocable fact. It is superfluous 
to say that he was happy. Sophia had set her- 
self to repair the deficiencies in his education 
and culture ; she took him to scientific lectures 
and classical concerts, and made him read 
standard authors without skipping. He felt 
himself daily acquiring balance and serious- 
ness, and an accurate habit of thought, and 
all the other qualities which Sophia wished 
him to cultivate. 

Still, there were moments when he felt the 
need of halting and recovering his wind, so 
to speak, in the steep and toilsome climb to 
her superior mental level — times when he felt 
that his overtaxed brain absolutely required 
relaxation of some sort. 

lie felt this particularly one dreary morn- 
ing, late in November, as he sat in his London 
chambers, staring with lack -luster eyes at the 
letter he had that day received from his be- 
trothed. For, although they met nearly every 
day, she never allowed one to pass without a 


tourmalin’s irirst (Hljcque. 


SI 


letter — no fond and foolisli effusion, be it un- 
derstood, but a kind of epistolary examination 
paper, to test tlie progress he was making. 
This one contained some searching questions 
on Buckle’s History of Civilization , which he 
was expected to answer by return of post. He 
was not supposed to look at the book, though 
he had ; and even then he felt himself scarcely 
better fitted to floor the tremendous posers de- 
vised by Sophia’s unwearying care. 

The day before, he had had “search-ques- 
tions” in English poetry from Chaucer to 
Mr. Lewis Morris, which had thinned and 
whitened his hair ; but this was, if possible, 
even worse. 

He wished now that he had got up his 
Buckle more thoroughly during his voyage on 
the Boomerang — and, with the name, his ar- 
rangement with the manager suddenly rose to 
his recollection. What had he done with that 
book of Time Cheques 2 If he could only 
get away, if but for a quarter of an hour — 
away from those somber rooms, with their 
outlook on dingy house-tops and a murky, 
rhubarb-colored sky — if he could really ex- 
change all that for the sunniness and warmth 


32 


tourmalin's time Cheques. 


and delicious idleness which had once seemed 
so tedious, what a rest it would be! And 
would he not return after such an interlude 
with all his faculties invigorated, and better 
able to cope with the task he now found almost 
insuperable ? 

The first thing was to find the cheque-book, 
which did not take him long ; though when he 
had found it, something made him pause be- 
fore filling up a cheque. What if he had 
been made a fool of — if the Anglo- Australian 
Time Cheque Bank never existed, or had sus- 
pended payment ? But that was easily settled 
by presenting a cheque. Why should he not, 
just by way of experiment ? His balance was 
intact as yet ; he was never likely to need a 
little ready time more than he did just then. 
He would draw the minimum amount, fifteen 
minutes, and see how the system worked. 

So, although he had little real confidence 
that anything would happen at all, he drew a 
cheque, and- slipped it behind the frivolous and 
rather incorrect little ormolu clock upon his 
chimey-piece. 

The result was instantaneous, and altogether 
beyond his expectations! The four walls of 


tourmalin’s iFirst QHjeqne. 


33 


his room assumed the transparency of gauze 
for a second, before fading entirely away ; the 
olive fog changed to translucent blue; there 
was a briny breath in the air, and he himself 
was leaning upon the rail at the forward end 
of the hurricane-deck of the Boomerang , which 
was riding with a slow and stately rise and fall 
over the heaving swell. 

That was surprising enough ; but more sur- 
prising still was the discovery that he was ap- 
parently engaged in close and confidential con- 
versation with a lovely person in whom he 
distinctly recognized Miss Tyrrell. 

“ Yes, I forgive you, Mr. Tourmalin,” she 
was saying, with an evident effort to suppress 
a certain agitation ; but indeed, indeed , you 
must never speak to me like that again ! ” 

Now, as Peter was certainly not conscious 
of ever having spoken to her at all in his life, 
this was naturally a startling and even embar- 
assing beginning. 

But he had presence of mind enough to 
take in the position of affairs, and adapt him- 
self to them. This was one of the quarters of 
an hour he would have had, and it "was clear 
that in some portion or other of his spare 
3 


34 


ftaitrmalin's &inte (El)cqttes. 


time lie would have made Miss Tyrrell’s ac- 
quaintance in some way. Of course he ought 
to have been paid that particular time first ; 
but he could easily see from her manner, and 
the almost tender friendliness which shone in 
her moistened eyes, that at this period they 
had advanced considerably beyond mere ac- 
quaintanceship. There had been some little 
mistake probably ; the cheques had been 
wrongly numbered perhaps, or else they were 
honored without regard to chronological se- 
quence, which was most confusing. 

Still, he had nothing to do but conceal his 
ignorance as well as he could, and pick up the 
loose threads as he went along. He was able, 
at all events, to assure her that he would not, 
if he could help it, incur her displeasure by 
speaking to her “ like that ” in future. 

“ Thanks,” she said. “ I know it was only 
a temporary forgetfulness ; and — and if what 
you suspect should prove to be really true — 
why, then, Mr. Tourmalin, then, of course, you 
may come and tell me so.” 

“I will,” he said. “I shall make a point 
of it. Only,” he thought to himself, “ she 
will have to tell me first what I’m to tell her.” 


fftotmttahn's ihrst (El)crpte. 


35 


“ And in the mean time,” she said, “ let ns 
go on as before, as if you had never brought 
yourself to confide your sad story to me.” 

So he had told a sad story, had he? he 
thought, much bewildered ; for, as he had no 
story belonging to him of that character, he 
was afraid he must have invented one, while, 
of course, he could not ask for information. 

“ Yes,” he said, with great presence of 
mind, “ forget my unhappy story — let it never 
be mentioned between us again. We will go 
on as before — exactly as before.” 

“ It is our only course,” she agreed. “ And 
now,” she added, wfith a cheerfulness that 
struck him as a little forced, “ suppose we 
talk of something else.” 

Peter considered this a good suggestion, pro- 
vided it was a subject he knew a little more 
about ; which, unhappily, it was not. 

“You never answered my question,” she 
reminded him. 

He would have liked, as Ministers say in the 
House, “ previous notice of that question ; ” 
but he could hardly say so in so many words. 

“ Ho,” he said. “ Forgive me if I say that 
it is a — a painful subject to me.” 


36 


QTottrmalin’s Cheques. 


“ I understand that,” she said gently (it 
was more than he did) ; “ but tell me only 
this : was it that that made you behave as 
you did ? You are sure you had no other 
reason ? ” 

[“ If I said I had,” thought Peter, “ she will 
ask me what it was.”] “ I will be as frank 
as possible, Miss Tyrrell,” he replied. “I 
had no other reason. What other reason 
could I have had ? ” 

“ I half fancied — but I ought to have seen 
from the first that, whatever it was, it was not 
that. And now you have made everything 
quite clear.” 

“ I am glad you find it so,” said Peter, with 
a touch of envy. 

“ Put I might have gone on misunderstand- 
ing and misjudging, putting you down as 
proud and cold and unsociable, or prejudiced, 
but for the accident which brought us togeth- 
er, in spite of your determination that we 
should remain total strangers.” 

It was an accident which had made them 
acquainted, then. He would draw the cheque 
which contained that episode of his extra 
time sooner or later ; but it was distinctly in- 


tourmalin’s iurst (Eljerjnc. 


37 


convenient not to have at least some idea of 
what had happened. 

“ A fortunate accident for me, at all events,” 
he said with a judicious recourse to compli- 
ment. 

“ It might have been a very unfortunate 
one for poor papa,” she said, “but for you. 
I do believe he would have been quite incon- 
solable.” 

Peter felt an agreeable shock. Had he 
really been fortunate enough to distinguish 
himself by rescuing the Judge’s fair daughter 
from some deadly peril ? It looked very like 
it. He had often suspected himself of a latent 
heroism which had never had an opportunity 
of being displayed. This opportunity must 
have occurred, and he have proved equal to 
the occasion, in one of those extra hours ! 

“ I can quite imagine that he would be in- 
consolable indeed ! ” he said gallantly. “ For- 
tunately, I was privileged to prevent such a 
calamity.” 

“Tell me again exactly how you did it,” 
she said. “ I never quite understood.” 

Peter again took refuge in a discreet vague- 


ness. 


38 


tourmalin’s time tljequcs. 


“ Oh,” lie replied, modestly, “ there is not 
much to tell. I saw the — er — danger, and 
knew there wasn’t a moment to lose ; and 
then I sprang forward, and — well, you know 
the rest as well as I do ! ” 

“ You only just caught him as he was going 
up the rigging, didn’t you ? ” she asked. 

So it was the J udge he had saved — not his 
daughter ! Peter felt a natural disappoint- 
ment. But he saw the state of the case now : 
a powerful judicial intellect over-strained, mel- 
ancholia, suicidal impulses — it was all very 
sad ; hut happily he had succeeded in saving 
this man to his country. 

“ I — ventured to detain him,” he said, con- 
siderately, “ seeing that he was — er — rather 
excited.” 

“ But weren’t you afraid he would bite you \ ” 

“ No,” said Peter, pained at this revelation 
of the Judge’s condition, “ that possibility did 
not occur to me. In fact I am sure that — er 
— though the strongest intellects are occasion- 
ally subject to attacks of this sort, he would 
never so far forgot himself as to — er — bite a 
complete stranger.” 

“ Ah ! ” she said, “ you don’t know what a 


tourmalin’s -first (Jerque. 


39 


savage old creature lie can be sometimes. He 
never ought to be let loose; I’m sure he’s- 
dangerous ! ” 

“ Oh ! but think, Miss Tyrrell,” remonstrated 
Peter, unmistakably shocked at this unfilial 
attitude toward a distinguished parent ; “ if 
he was — er — dangerous, he would not be upon 
the Bench now, surely ! ” 

She glanced over her shoulder with evident 
apprehension. 

“ How you frightened me ! ” she said. “ I 
thought he was really there! But I hope 
they’ll shut him up in future, so that he won’t 
be able to do any more mischief. You didn’t 
tell me how you got hold of him. Was it by 
his chain or his tail \ ” 

Peter did not know ; and, besides, it was as 
difficult for him to picture himself in the act 
of seizing a hypochondriacal judge by his 
watch-chain or coat-tail, as it was for him to 
comprehend the utter want of feeling that 
could prompt such a question from the suffer- 
er’s own daughter. 

“ I hope,” he said, with a gravity which he 
intended as a rebuke — “ I hope I treated him 
with all the respect and consideration possible 


40 


^ourtnalin’s QLimc (toques. 


under the — er — circumstances. ... I am sorry 
that that remark appears to amuse you ! ” 

For Miss Tyrrell was actually laughing, with 
a merriment in "Which there was nothing 
forced. 

“ How can I help it ? ” she said, as soon 
as she could speak. “It is too funny to hear 
you talking of being regretful and considerate 
to a horrid monkey ! ” 

“ A monkey ! ” he repeated involuntarily. 

So it was a monkey that was under restraint 
and not a Judge of her Majesty’s Supreme 
Court of Judicature ; a discovery which left 
him as much in the dark as to what particular 
service he had rendered as ever, and made 
him tremble to think what he might have 
said. But apparently, by singular good for- 
tune, he had not committed himself beyond 
recovery ; for Miss Tyrrell only said : 

“ I thought you were speaking of the monk- 
ey, the little wretch that came up behind papa 
and snatched away all his notes — the notes 
he had made for the great case he tried last 
term, and has to deliver judgment upon when 
the Courts sit again. Surely he told you how 
important they were, and how awkward it 


tourmalin’s first tl jeque. 


41 


would have been if the monkey had escaped 
with them, and torn them into pieces or dropped 
them into the sea ? — as he probably would have 
done but for you ! ” 

“ Oh, ah, yes ! ” said Peter, feeling slightly 
crest-fallen, for he had hoped he had per- 
formed a more dashing deed than catching a 
loose monkey. “ I believe your father — Sir 
John?” he hazarded . . . “ Sir William, of 

course, thank you . . . did mention the fact. 
But it really was such a trifling thing to do.” 

“ Papa didn’t think so,” she said. “ He de- 
clares he can never be grateful enough to you. 
And, whatever it was,” she added softly, and 
even shyly, “ I, at least, can never think lightly 
of a service which has — has made us what we 
are to one another.” 

What they were to one another ! And 
what was that f A dreadful uncertainty 
seized upon Peter. Was it possible that, in 
some way he did not understand, he was en- 
gaged to this very charming girl, who was 
almost a stranger to him? The mere idea 
froze his blood ; for if that was so, how did 
it affect his position toward Sophia ? At all 
hazards, he must know the worst at once ! 


42 


tourmalin's time toques. 


“ Tell me,” lie said with trembling accents, — 
“ I know yon have told me already, but tell me 
once more — precisely wdiat we are to one an- 
other at present. It would be so much more 
satisfactory to my mind,” he added, in a de- 
precatory tone, “to have that clearly under- 
stood.” 

“I thought I had made it quite clear al- 
ready,” she said, with the least suspicion of 
coldness, “ that we can be nothing more to one 
another than friends.” 

The relief was almost too much for him. 
What a dear, good, sensible girl she was! 
How perfectly she appreciated the facts ! 

“ Friends ! ” he cried. “ Is that all f Do 
you really mean we are nothing more than 
friends ? ” 

He caught her hand, in the fervor of his 
gratitude, and she allowed it to remain in his 
grasp ; which in the altered state of things, 
he found rather pleasant than otherwise. 

“ Ah ! ” she murmured, “ don’t ask me for 
more than I have said — more than I can ever 
say, perhaps ! Let us be content with remain- 
ing friends — dear friends, if you like — but no 
more ! ” 


tourmalin’s -first €l)er|ue. 


43 


“ I will,” said Peter promptly, “ I will be con- 
tent. Dear friends, by all means ; but no more ! ” 

“ No,” slie assented ; “ unless a time should 
come when — ■” 

“Yes,” said Peter, encouragingly, as she 
hesitated. “You were about to say, a time 
wdien — ? ” 

Her lips moved, a faint flush stole into her 
cheeks ; she was about to complete her sen- 
tence, when her hand seemed to melt away in 
his own, and he stood, grasping the empty air, 
by his own mantelpiece. The upper deck, 
the heaving bows, the blue seaboard, Miss Tyr- 
rell herself, all had vanished; and in their 
stead were the familiar surroundings of his 
chamber, the grimy London housefronts, and 
Sophia’s list of questions lying still unanswered 
upon his writing-table ! His fifteen minutes 
had come to an end ; the cheque was nowhere 
to be seen. The minute-hand of his clock had 
not moved since he last saw it ; but this last 
circumstance, as he saw on reflection, was only 
natural, for otherwise the Time Deposit would 
have conferred no real advantage, as he would 
never have regained the hours he had tempo- 
rarily foregone. 


44 


tourmalin's QLimc tljcqucs. 


For some time Peter sat perfectly still, with 
liis head between his hands, occupied in a men- 
tal review of this his initial experience of the 
cheque-book system. It was as different as 
possible from the spell of perfect rest he had 
anticipated ; but had it been unpleasant on 
that account \ In spite of an element of mys- 
tification at starting, which was inevitable, he 
was obliged to admit to himself that he had 
enjoyed this little adventure more than per- 
haps he should have done. With all his 
attachment to Sophia, he could hardly be in- 
sensible to the privilege of suddenly finding 
himself the friend — and more than that, the 
dear friend — of so delightful a girl as this 
Miss Tyrrell. 

There was a strange charm, a peculiar and 
quite platonic tenderness about an intimacy of 
this peculiar and unprecedented nature, which 
increased at every fresh recollection of it. It 
increased so rapidly indeed, that almost uncon- 
sciously he drew the cheque-book toward him, 
and began to fill up another cheque with a 
view to an immediate return to the Boomei »- 
ang. 

But when he had torn the cheque out, he 


(Eourmalin’s .first €I)cqne. 


45 


hesitated. It was all quite harmless : the most 
severe moralist could not convict him of even 
the most shadowy infidelity toward his fiancee, 
if he chose to go back and follow up a purely 
retrospective episode like this — an episode 
which interested and fascinated him so strongly 
— only, what would Sophia say to it? In- 
stinctively he felt that the situation, innocent 
as it was, would fail to commend itself to her. 
He had no intention of informing her, it was 
true ; but he knew that he was a poor dis- 
sembler — he might easily betray himself in 
some unguarded moment, and then — Ho! 
it was vexing, no doubt ; but upon the whole, 
it was wiser and better to renounce those addi- 
tional hours on board the Boomerang alto- 
gether — to allow this past, that never had, but 
only might have been, to remain unsummoned 
and unknown forever. Otherwise, who could 
tell that, by gradual assaults, even such an af- 
fection as he had for Sophia might not be 
eventually undermined. 

But this fear, as he saw the next moment, 
was almost too extravagant to be seriously 
taken into account. He felt nothing, and 
never could feel anything, but warm and sin- 


46 


(Eomrmalin’s ®ime (Eljcqncs. 


cere friendship for Miss Tyrrell ; and it was 
satisfactory to know that she was in no danger 
of mistaking his sentiments. Still, of course 
there was always a certain risk, particularly 
when he was necessarily in ignorance of all 
that had preceded and followed the only col- 
loquy they had had as yet. At last he decided 
upon a compromise : he would not cash that 
second cheque for the present, at all events ; 
he would reserve it for an emergency, and 
only use it if he was absolutely driven to do so 
as a mental tonic. Perhaps Sophia would not 
compel him to such a necessity again; he 
hoped — at least he thought she would not. 

So he put the unpresented cheque in an in- 
ner pocket, and set to work with desperate 
energy at his examination-paper ; although 
his recent change must have proved less stimu- 
lating to his jaded faculties than he had hoped, 
since Sophia, after reading his answers, made 
the cutting remark that she scarcely knew 
which he had more completely failed to 
apprehend — the purport of his author, or 
that of the very simple questions she had 
set him. 

Peter could not help thinking, rather rue- 


ftcnmnalin’s inrst (Il)eqne. 


47 


fully, that Miss Tyrrell would never have 
been capable of such severity as that ; but, 
then, Miss Tyrrell was not his fiancee , only 
a very dear friend, whom he would, most proba- 
bly, never meet again. 


CHAPTER II. 

THE SECOND CHEQUE. 

Furnishing. — A Cosy Corner . — “ Sitting Out.” — Fresh 
Discoveries. — Twice a Hero. — Bewilderment and 
Bathos. 

The knowledge tliat one has a remedy with- 
in reach is often as effectual as the remedy it- 
self, if not more so ; which may account for 
the fact that, although a considerable number 
of weeks had elapsed since Peter Tourmalin 
had drawn his second cheque on the Anglo- 
Australian Joint Stock Time Bank, that cheque 
still remained unpresented. 

The day fixed for his wedding with Sophia 
was drawing near ; the flat in the Marylebone 
Road, which was to be the scene of their joint 
felicity, had to be furnished, and this occupied 
most of his time. Sophia took the entire busi- 
ness upon herself, for she had scientific theo- 


$t)e Qsconb Cheque. 


49 


ries on the subject of decoration and color har- 
monies which Peter could only accept with 
admiring awe ; but, nevertheless, she required 
him to be constantly at hand, so that she could 
consult him after her own mind had been ir- 
revocably made up. 

One February afternoon he was wandering 
rather disconsolately about the labyrinthine 
passages of one of the monster upholstery es- 
tablishments in the Tottenham Court Road, his 
chief object being to evade the courtesies of 
the numerous assistants as they anxiously in- 
quired what they might have the pleasure of 
showing him. He and Sophia had been there 
since midday; and she had sat in judgment 
upon carpets which were brought out, plung- 
ing like unbroken colts, by panting foremen, 
and unrolled before her in a blinding riot of 
color. Peter had only to express the mildest 
commendation of any carpet to seal that car- 
pet’s doom instantly ; so that he soon abstained 
from personal interference. 

How Sophia was in the ironmongery de- 
partment, choosing kitchen utensils, and his 
opinion being naturally of no value on such 
matters, he was free to roam wherever he 

4 


50 


tourmalin’s time tljcqucs. 


pleased within the limits of the building. He 
felt tired and rather faint, for he had had no 
lunch ; and presently he came to a series of 
show-rooms fitted up as rooms in various styles : 
there was one inviting-looking interior, with 
an elaborate chimneypiece which had cosy 
cushioned nooks on either side of the fireplace, 
and into one of these corners he sank with 
heartfelt gratitude; for it w T as a comfortable 
seat, and he had not sat down for hours. But 
as his weariness wore away, he felt the want 
of something to occupy his mind, and searched 
in his pockets to see if he had any letters 
there — even notes of congratulation upon his 
approaching marriage would be better than 
nothing in his present reduced condition. But 
he had left all his correspondence at his cham- 
bers. The only document he came upon was 
the identical time cheque he had drawn long 
ago : it was creased and rumpled ; but none the 
less negotiable, if he could find a clock. And 
on the built-up chimneypiece there was a clock, 
a small faience affair surmounted by a Japanese 
monster in peacock-blue. Moreover, by some 
chance, this clock was actually going — he could 
hear it ticking as he sat there. Should he pre* 


Srconb €l)cque. 


51 


sent his cheque or not ; he was feeling a little 
aggrieved at Sophia’s treatment of him, she had 
snubbed him so unmercifully over the carpets ; 
it was pleasant to think that, if he chose, he 
could transport himself that very instant to 
the society of a sweet and appreciative com- 
panion from whom snubbing was the last 
thing to be apprehended. 

Yes ; Sophia’s treatment quite justified him 
in making an exception to the rule he had laid 
down for himself — he would present that 
cheque. And he rose softly from his seat and 
pushed the cheque under .the little time- 
piece. . . . 

As before, his draft was honored immedi- 
ately ; he found himself on a steamer-chair in 
a sheltered passage between two of the deck- 
cabins. It was night, and he could not clearly 
distinguish any objects around him for some 
little time, owing to the darkness ; but from a 
glimmer of white drapery that was faintly 
visible close by, he easily inferred that there 
was another chair adjoining his, which could 
only be occupied by Miss Tyrrell. He could 
just hear the ship’s band playing a waltz at 
the further end of the ship ; it was one of the 


52 


tourmalin’s time tl)cqucs. 


evenings when there had been dancing, and he 
and Miss Tyrrell were sitting out together. 

All this he realized instantly, and not with- 
out a thrill of interest and expectation, which, 
however, the first words she uttered were suffi- 
cient to reduce to the most prosaic perplexity. 

“ What have I said ? ” she was moaning, in 
a voice hardly recognizable from emotion and 
the fleecy wrap in which her face was muffled 
— “ oh ! what have I said ? ” 

Peter was naturally powerless to afford her 
any information on this point, even if she 
really required it; he made a rapid mental 
note to the effect that their intimacy had evi- 
dently made great progress since their last in- 
terview. 

“ I’m afraid,’’ he said, deciding that candor 
was his only course, “ I can’t exactly tell you 
what you did say ; for, as a matter of fact, I 
didn’t quite catch it.” 

“ Ah ! you say that to spare me,” she mur- 
mured ; “ you must have heard ; but, promise 
me you will forget it ? ” 

“Willingly,” said Peter, with the greatest 
readiness to oblige ; “ I will consider it forgot- 
ten.” 


)c Scconb (£l)cqttc. 


53 


“ If I could but hope that ! ” she said. 
“ And, yet,” she added recklessly, “ why should 
I care what I say ? ” 

“ To be sure,” agreed Tourmalin at random, 
“ why should you, you know 1 ” 

“ You must have seen from the first that I 
was very far from being happy ? ” 

u I must confess,” said Peter, with the air of 
a man whom nothing escaped, “ that I did ob- 
serve that.” 

“ And you were right ! Was it unnatural 
that I should be nothing but grateful to the 
chance which first brought us together ? ” 

“ Not at all,” said Peter, delighted to feel 
himself on solid ground again ; “ indeed, if I 
may speak for myself, I have even greater 
reason to feel grateful to that monkey.” 

“ To what monkey ? ” she exclaimed. 

“ Why, naturally, my dear Miss Tyrrell, to 
the animal which was the unconscious instru- 
ment in making us acquainted. You surely 
can not have forgotten already that it was a 
monkey ? ” 

She half rose with an impetuous movement, 
the mantilla fell from her face, and even in 
the faint starlight, he could perceive that, beau- 


54 


QTattrtnaliu’s ®ime Cheques. 


tiful as that face undoubtedly was, it was as 
certainly not the face of Miss Tyrrell ! 

“ You seem to have forgotten a great deal,” 
she retorted, with a suppressed sob in her 
voice, “ or you would at least remember that 
my name is Davenport. Why you should 
choose to call me Miss Tyrrell, whom I don’t 
even know by sight, I can’t conceive ! ” 

Here was a discovery, and a startling one ! 
It appeared that he had not merely one, but 
two dear friends on board this P. and O. 
steamer ; and the second seemed, if possible, 
even dearer than the first! He must have 
made the very most of those extra hours ! 

There was one comfort, however, Miss Dav- 
enport did not, contrary to his impression, 
know Miss Tyrrell ; so that they need not 
necessarily clash — still, it was undeniably awk- 
ward. He had to get out of his mistake as 
well as he could, which was but lamely. 

“ Why, of course ,” he protested, “ I know 
you are Miss Davenport. Most stupid of me 
to address you as Miss Tyrrell ! The — the 
only explanation I can offer is, that before I 
had the pleasure of speaking to you, I was 
under the impression that your proper name 


®l)e Seconb €l)cqtte. 55 


was Tyrrell , and so it slipped out again just 
then from habit.” 

This — though the literal, if not the moral, 
truth — did not seem to satisfy her entirely. 

“ That may be so,” she said, curtly ; “ still 
it does not explain why you should address 
me as Miss Anybody, after asking and re- 
ceiving permission, only last night, to call me 
by my Christian name ! ” 

Obviously their relations were even closer 
than he had imagined. He had no idea they 
had got as far as Christian names already, 
any more than he had of what hers might hap- 
pen to be. 

There was a painful want of method in the 
manner this Time Bank conducted its business, 
as he could not help remarking to himself ; 
however, Peter, perhaps, from the very ti- 
midity in his character, developed unexpected 
adroitness in a situation of some difficulty. 

“ So you did ! ” he said. “ You allowed 
me to call you by your — er — Christian name ; 
but I value such a privilege too highly to use 
it — er — indiscriminately.” 

“ You are very strange to-night ! ” she said, 
with a plaintive and almost childish quiver of 


56 


®0tjrmalin’s ®ime Cheques. 


the lip. “ First you call me ‘ Miss Tyrrell ’ 
and then ‘ Miss Davenport,’ and then you will 
have it that we were introduced by a monkey ! 
As if I should ever allow a monkey to intro- 
duce anybody to me ! Is saving a girl’s life 
such an ordinary event with you, that you 
forget all about such a trifle ? ” 

This last sentence compensated Peter for all 
that had gone before. Here was a peison 
whose life he really had saved ; and his heart 
warmed to her from that moment. Rescuing 
a girl from imminent bodily peril was a more 
heroic achievement than capturing the most 
mischievous of monkeys ; and, besides, he felt 
it was far more in his style. So it was in 
his best manner he replied to her question : 

“ It would be strange, indeed,” he said re- 
proachfully, “ If I could ever forget that I was 
the humble means of preserving you from — 
from a watery grave ” — (he risked the epithet, 
concluding that on a voyage it could hardly be 
any other description of grave; and she did 
not challenge it, so he continued) — “ a watery 
grave ; but I had hoped you would appreciate 
the motive which restrained me from — er — 
seeming to dwell upon such a circumstance.” 


Qlt)t Secottir Cheque. 


57 


This appeal, unprincipled as it was, subdued 
her instantly. 

“ Oh, forgive me ! ” she said, putting out her 
hand with the prettiest penitence. “ I might 
have known you better than that. I didn’t 
mean it. Please say you forgive me, and — and 
call me Maud again ! ” 

Relief at being supplied with a missing 
clew made Peter reckless ; indeed, it is to be 
feared that demoralization had already set in ; 
he took the hand she gave him, and it did 
not occur to him to let it go immediately. 

“ Maud, then,” he said obediently ; “ I for- 
give you, Maud.” 

It was a prettier name to pronounce than 
Sophia. 

“ How curious it is,” she was saying, dream- 
ily, as she nestled comfortably in her chair be- 
side him, “ that, up to the very moment when 
you rushed forward that day, I scarcely gave 
your existence a thought ! And now — how 
little we ever know what is going to happen to 
us, do we ? ” 

[“Or what has happened, for that mat- 
ter ! ” he thought.] This time he would not 
commit himself to details until he could learn 


58 


tourmalin’s time toques. 


more about the precise nature of his dauntless 
act, which he at once proceeded to do. 

“I should very much like to know,” he 
suggested, “ what your sensations were at that 
critical moment.” 

“ My sensations ? I hardly know,” she said, 
“I remember leaning over the — bulwarks, is 
it ? ” (Peter said it was bulwarks) — “ the bul- 
warks, watching a sailor in a little balcony be- 
low, who was doing something with a long 
line—” 

“ Heaving the lead,” said Peter ; ■“ so he 
was — go on ! ” 

lie was intensely excited ; it was all plain 
enough : she had lost her balance and fallen 
overboard; he had plunged in, and gallantly 
kept her above water till help arrived. He 
had always known he was capable of this sort 
of thing ; now he had proved it. 

“ — When all at once,” she continued, “ I 
felt myself roughly dragged back by somebody 

that was you ! I was rather angry for the 
moment, for it did seem quite a liberty for a 
total stranger to take, — -when, that very in- 
stant, I saw the line with a great heavy lump 
of lead at the end of it whirled round exactly 


®t)e Seccmh (Eljequc. 


59 


where my head had been, and then I knew 
that I owed my life to your presence of 
mind ! ” 

Peter was more than disappointed — he was 
positively disgusted at this exceedingly tame 
conclusion ; it did seem hard that, even under 
conditions when any act of daring might have 
been possible to him, he could do nothing 
more brilliant than this. It was really worse 
than the monkey business ! 

“ I’m afraid you make too much of the 
very little I did,” he said. 

“Do I? Perhaps that is because if you 
had not done it, we should never come to know 
one another as we do ! ” (So far, it was a very 
one-sided sort of knowledge, Peter thought.) 
“And yet,” she added, with a long-drawn 
sigh, “ I sometimes think that we should 
both be happier if we never had known one 
another ; if you had stood aside, and the lead 
had struck me and I had died ! ” 

“ No, no ! ” said Peter, unfeignedly alarmed 
at this morbid reflection, “you mustn’t take 
such a gloomy view of it as all that, you 
know! ” 

“Why not?” she said, in a somber tone, 


60 


tourmalin’s time tljeqnes. 


“It is gloomy — how gloomy I know better 
than you ! ” (“ She might well do that,” 

thought Tourmalin.) “Why did I not see 
that I was slowly, imperceptibly drifting — 
drifting ? ” 

“ Well,” said Peter, with a levity he was far 
from feeling, “ if the drifting was impercepti- 
ble, you naturally wouldn't see it, you know l ” 

“ You might have spared a joke at such a 
time as this ! ” she cried, indignantly. 

“ I — I wasn’t aware there was a close time for 
jokes,” he said, humbly ; “ not that it was 
much of a joke ! ” 

“Indeed it was not,” she replied. “But 
oh, Peter, now we have both drifted ! ” “ Have 
we ? ” he exclaimed, blankly. “ I — I mean — 
haven’t we ! ” 

“I was so blind — so willfully, foolishly 
blind ! I told myself we were friends ! ” 

“ Surely we are ? ” he said retaking posses- 
sion of her hand ; he had entirely forgotten 
Sophia in the ironmongery department, at 
Tottenham Court Road. “ I — I understood we 
were on that footing ? ” 

“ Ho,” she said, “ let us have no subterfuges 
any more — we must look facts in the face. 


®f)e Scconb (Cheque. 61 


After what we have both said to-night, we 
can no longer deceive ourselves by words. 
. . . Peter,” she broke off suddenly, “ I am 
going to ask you a question, and on your an- 
swer my fate — and yours too, perhaps — will 
depend ! Tell me truthfully . . .” Her voice 
failed her for the moment, as she bent over 
toward him, and clutched his arm tightly in 
her excitement; her eyes shone with a wild, 
intense eagerness for his reply. . . . “Would 
you — ” she repeated . . . 

“Would you have the bottle-jack all brass, 
or japanned? The brass ones are a shilling 
more.” 

Peter gave a violent start, for the voice in 
which this most incongruous and irrelevant 
question was put was that of Sophia ! 

Miss Davenport with her hysterical appeal, 
the steamer-chairs, and the starlight, all had 
fled, and he stood, supporting himself limply 
by the arm of the chimney-nook in the uphol- 
sterer’s showroom, staring at Sophia, who 
stood there, sedate and practical, inviting his 
attention to a couple of bottle-jacks which an 
assistant was displaying with an obsequious 
smile : the transition was rather an abrupt one. 


62 


tourmalin’s time Cheques. 


“ Oh, I think the brass one is very nice,” 
he stammered, feebly enough. 

“ Then that settles it,” remarked Sophia ; 
“ we’ll take the japanned one, please,” she said 
to the assistant. 

“ Aren’t you feeling well, Peter dear ? ” 
she asked presently, in an undertone. “ You 
look so odd ! ” 

“ Quite well,” he said ; “ I — ah ! — was think- 
ing of something else for the moment, and 
you startled me, that’s all.” 

“ You had such a far-away expression in 
your eyes,” said Sophia, “ and you did jump 
so when I spoke to you; you should really 
try to conquer that tendency to let yourself 
wander, Peter.” 

“I will, my love,” he said; and he meant 
it, for he had let himself wander farther than 
he quite intended. 


CHAPTER III. 


THE THIRD CHEQUE. 

Good Resolutions. — Casuistry . — A Farewell Visit . — 
Small Profit and a Quick Return. 

As the reader may imagine, this second ex- 
perience had an effect upon Peter that was 
rather deterrent than encouraging. 

It was a painful piece of self-revelation to 
find that, had he chosen to avail himself of 
the extra hours on board the Boomerang as 
they occurred, he would have so employed them 
as to place himself in relations of considerable 
ambiguity toward two distinct young ladies. 
How far he was committed to either, or both, 
he could not tell ; but he had an uneasy sus- 
picion that neither of them would have been 
quite so emotional had he conducted himself 
with the same prudence that had marked his 


64 


(Eonrmalin’s ®ime (Eljcqnca. 


behavior throughout the time which he was 
able to account for. 

And yet his conscience acquitted him of 
any actual default ; if he had ever really had 
any passages at all approaching the sentimental 
with either Miss Tyrrell or Miss Davenport, 
his mind could hardly be so utterly blank on 
the subject as it certainly was. No; at the 
worst, Ins failings were only potential pecca- 
dilloes, the kind of weaknesses he might have 
given way to if he had not wisely postponed 
the hours in which the occasions were afforded. 

He had had a warning, a practical moral les- 
son which had merely arrived, as such things 
often do, rather after date. 

But, so far as it was possible to profit by it, 
he would : at least, he would abstain from 
making any further inroads upon the balance 
of extra time which still remained to his credit 
at the bank ; he would draw no further cheques ; 
he would return to that P. and O. steamer no 
more. For an engaged man whose wedding- 
day was approaching by leaps and bounds, it 
was, however innocent, too disturbing and ex- 
citing a form of distraction to be quite safely 
indulged in. 


®1)C ®l)irb Cheque. 


65 


The resolution cost him something, never- 
theless. Peter was not a man who had hither- 
to been spoiled by feminine adoration. Sophia 
was fond of him, but she never atfected to 
place him upon any sort of pinnacle ; on the 
contrary, she looked down upon him protect- 
ingly and indulgently from a moral and intel- 
lectual pedestal of her own. He had not ob- 
jected to this, in fact he rather liked it, but 
it was less gratifying and stimulating to his 
self-esteem than the romantic and idealizing 
sentiments which he had seemingly inspired 
in two exceedingly bewitching young persons 
with whom he felt so much in sympathy. It 
was an agreeable return from the bread-and- 
butter of engaged life to the petit s fours of 
semi-flirtation. After all, Peter was but hu- 
man, and a man is seldom esteemed for being 
otherwise. He could not help a natural regret 
at having to abandon experiences which, judg- 
ing from the fragmentary samples he had ob- 
tained, promised so much and. such varied in- 
terest. That the interest was not consecutive, 
only made it the more amusing — it was a living 
puzzle-picture, the pieces of which he could fit 
together as he received them. It was tantaliz- 

5 


66 


tourmalin’s time tl)eques. 


ing to look at liis clieqne-book and feel that 
upon its leaves the rest of the story was writ- 
ten, but that he must never seek to decipher 
it : it became so tantalizing, that he locked 
the cheque-book up at last. 

But already some of the edge had worn off 
his resolution, and he had begun to see only 
the more seductive side of interviews which 
at the time, had not been free from difficulty 
and embarrassment. Having put himself be- 
yond the reach of temptation, he naturally 
began to cast about for some excuse for again 
exposing himself to it. 

It was the eve of his wedding-day ; he was 
in his chambers for the last time and alone, 
for he would not see Sophia again until he met 
her in bridal array at the church door, and he 
had no bachelor friends whom he cared to in- 
vite to help him to keep up his spirits. 

Peter was horribly restless and nervous ; he 
needed a sedative of some kind, and even try- 
ing on his wedding garments failed to soothe 
him, as he felt almost certain there was a 
wrinkle between the shoulders, and it was too 
late to have it altered. 

The idea of one more visit to the Boomer - 


®l)c ®l)iri> (Hl)eque. 


67 


ang — one more interview, the last, with one 
or other of his amiable and fascinating friends 
— it did not matter very much which — pre- 
sented itself in a more and more attractive 
light. If it did nothing else, it would provide 
him with something to think about for the 
rest of the evening. 

Was it courteous, was it even right, to drop 
his friends without the slightest apology or 
explanation ? Ought he not, as a gentleman 
and a man of honor, to go back and bid them 
“ Good-by \ ” Peter, after carefully consider- 
ing the point, discovered that it was clearly 
his duty to perform this trifling act of civility. 

As soon as he had settled that, he got out 
his cheque-book from the dispatch-box, in which 
he had placed it for his own security, and, sit- 
ting down just as he was, drew another fifteen 
minutes, and cashed tlieni, like the first, at the 
ormolu clock. . . . 

This time he found himself sitting on a 
cushioned bench in the music-room of the 
Boomerang. It was shortly after sunset, as 
he could tell from the bar of dusky crimson 
against the violet sea, which, framed in the 
ports opposite, rose and sank with each roll of 


68 


tourmalin's time tljequcs. 


the ship. There was a swell on, and she 
rolled more than he could have wished. 

As he exj>ected, he was not alone ; but, as 
he had not expected, his companion was neither 
Miss Tyrrell nor Miss Davenport, hut a grim 
and portly matron, who was eyeing him with 
a look of strong disfavor, which made Peter 
wish he had not come. “ What,” he won- 
dered, “ was he in for now ? ” His uneasiness 
was increased as he glanced down upon his 
trousers, which, being new and of a delicate 
lavender tint, reminded him that in his impa- 
tience he had come away in his wedding gar- 
ments. He feared that he must present rather 
an odd appearance on board ship in this festal 
attire ; but there he would have to stay for 
the next quarter of an hour, and he must make 
the best of it. 

“ I repeat, Mr. Tourmalin,” said the matron, 
“you are doubtless not unprepared for the 
fact that I have requested a few minutes’ 
private conversation with you ? ” 

“ Pardon me,” said Peter, quaking already 
at this alarming opening, “ but I am — very 
much unprepared.” “Surely,” he thought, 
“ this could not be another dear friend ? No, 


(£l)e ftlprb €t)eque. 


09 


that was too absurd — lie must have drawn tlie 
line somewhere / ” 

“ Tlien permit me to enlighten you,” slie 
said raspingly. “ I sent for you at a time 
when we are least likely to he interrupted, to 
demand an explanation from you upon a very 
delicate and painful matter which has recently 
come to my knowledge.” 

“ Oh ! ” said Peter — and nothing more. He 
guessed her purpose at once ; she was going to 
ask him his intentions with regard to her 
daughter! He could have wished for some 
indication as to whether she was Lady Tyrrell 
or Mrs. Davenport; but, as he had none at 
present, “ Oh ” seemed the safest remark to 
make. 

“ Life on board a large passenger-ship, Mr. 
Tourmalin,” she went on to observe, “ though 
relaxed in some respects, is still not without 
decencies which a gentleman is bound to re- 
spect.” 

“ Quite so,” said Peter, unable to discover 
the bearings which lay in the application of 
this particular observation. 

“ You say ‘ Quite so ’ ; but what has your 
behavior been, sir ? ” 


70 tourmalin’s time tljeqncs. 


“ That,” said Peter, “ is exactly what I 
should like to know myself ! ” 

“ A true gentleman would have considered 
the responsibility he incurred by giving cur- 
rency to idle and malicious gossip ! ” 

His apprehensions were correct then : it was 
one of the young ladies’ mothers — but which f 

“ I can only assure you, madam,” he began, 
“ that if unhappily I have — er — been the means 
of furnishing gossip, it has been entirely unin- 
tentional.” 

She seemed so much mollified by this, that 
he proceeded with more confidence : 

“ As to anything I may have said to your 
daughter — ” when she almost bounded from 
her seat with fury. 

“My daughter , sir! Do you mean to sit 
there and tell me that you had the audacity to 
so much as hint of such a thing to my daugh- 
ter, of all people ? ” 

“ So — so much depends on who your daugh- 
ter is ! ” said Peter, completely losing his 
head. 

“ You dared to strike this cruel and un- 
manly blow at the self-respect of a sensitive 
girl — to poison her defenseless ears with your 


®l)C ftlprb €l)cqite. 


71 


false, dastardly insinuations — and you can actu- 
ally admit it ? ” 

“ I don’t know whether I can admit it 
or not yet,” he replied. “ And — and you do 
put things so very strongly ! It is like this : 
if you are referring to any conversation I may 
have had with Miss Tyrrell — ” 

“ Miss Tyrrell f You have told her too ! ” 
exclaimed this terrible old matron, thereby 
demonstrating that, at least, she was not Lady 
Tyrrell. 

“I — I should have said Miss Davenport,” 
said Peter, correcting himself precipitately. 

“ Miss Davenport as well ? Upon my word ! 
And pray, sir, may I ask how many other 
ladies on board this ship are in possession of 
your amiable confidences ? ” 

He raised his hands in utter despair. 

“ I can’t say,” he groaned. u I don’t really 
know what I may have said, or whom I may 
have said it to ! I — I seem to have done so 
much in my spare time, but I never meant 
anything ! ” 

“ It may be so,” she said ; “ indeed, you 
hardly seem to me accountable for your ac- 
tions, or you would not appear in such a ridicu- 


72 


®0urmaiin’0 &ime Cheques. 


lous costume as that, with a sprig of orange- 
blossom in your button-hole and a high hat, 
too ! ” 

“I quite feel,” said Peter, blushing, “that 
such a costume must strike you as inappropri- 
ate ; but — but I happened to be trying them 
on, and — rather than keep you waiting — ” 

“ Well, well, sir, never mind your costume 
— the question is, if you are genuinely anxious 
to repair the wrong you have done, what 
course do you propose to take ? ” 

“ I will be perfectly frank with you, mad- 
am,” said Peter : “ I am not in a position to 
repair any wrong I have done — if I have done 
any wrong (which I don’t admit) — by taking 
any course whatever ! ” 

“ You are not ! ” she cried. “ And you tell 
me so to my face ? ” 

After all, reflected Peter, why should he be 
afraid of this old lady ? In a few more min- 
utes he would be many hundreds of miles 
away, and he would take very good car^ not 
to come back again. lie felt master of the 
situation, and determined to brazen it out. 

“ I do, madam ! ” he said, crossing his legs 
in an easy fashion. “ Look at it from a rear 


&t)c (Etjeqtt*. 


73 


sonable point of view. There is safety in num- 
bers ; and if I have been so unfortunate as to 
give several young ladies here an entirely er- 
roneous impression, I must leave it to you to 
undeceive them as considerately but distinctly 
as you can. For me to make any selection 
would only create ill-feeling among the rest ; 
and their own good sense will show them 
that I am forbidden by the laws of my coun- 
try, which I am the last person to set at defi- 
ance — that I am forbidden (even if I were 
free in other respects, which I am not) to 
marry them all ! ” 

“ The only possible explanation of your con- 
duct is, that you are not in your right mind ! ” 
she said. “ Who in the world spoke or dreamed 
of your marrying any one of them ? Certainly 
not I ! ” 

“ Oh ! ” said Peter, hopelessly fogged once 
more. “ I thought I might unintentionally 
have given them grounds for some such ex- 
pectation. I’m very glad I was mistaken. 
You see, you must really make allowances for 
my utter ignorance.” 

“ If this idiotic behavior is not a mere feint, 
sir, I can make allowances for much ; but, 


74 


tourmalin’s time (Eljerjurs. 


surely, you are at least sufficiently in your 
proper senses to see liow abominably you have 
behaved ? ” 

“ Have I ? ” said Peter, submissively. “ I 
don’t wish to contradict you, if you say so, 
I’m sure. And, as I have some reason to 
believe that my stay on board this ship 
will not last very much longer, I should 
like before I go to express my very sincere 
regret.” 

“ There is an easy way of proving your 
sincerity, sir, if you choose to avail yourself of 
it,” she said. “ I find it very difficult to be- 
lieve, from the evident feebleness of your in- 
tellect, that you can be the person chiefiy 
responsible for this scandal. Am I correct in 
my supposition ? ” 

“ You are, madam,” said Peter. “ I should 
never have got myself into, such a tangle as 
this, if I had not been talked over by Mr. 
Perkins. I don’t know if I can succeed in 
making myself clear, for the whole business 
is rather complicated ; but I can try to ex- 
plain it, if you will only have a little pa- 
tience.” 

“ You have said quite enough,” she said. 


&l)ir& <EI)equ£. 


75 


“ I know all I wish to know now. So it was 
Mr. Perkins who has been using you as his in- 
strument, was it ? ” 

“ Certainly,” said Peter ; “ but for him, 
nothing of this would have happened.” 

“You will have no objection to repeating * 
that statement, should I call upon you to 
do so ? ” 

“ No,” said Peter, who observed with pleas- 
ure that her wrath against himself was almost 
entirely moderated ; u but you will have to 
call soon , or I shall have gone. I — I don’t 
know if I shall have another opportunity of 
meeting Mr. Perkins ; bat if I did, I should 
certainly tell him that I do not consider he has 
treated me quite fairly. He has put me in 
what I may call a false position, in several 
false positions ; and if I had had the knowl- 
edge I have now, I should have had nothing 
to do with him from the first. He entirely 
misled me over this business ! ” 

u Very well, sir,” she said ; “ you have 
shown a more gentlemanly spirit, on the whole, 
than I expected. I am glad to find that your 
evil has been wrought more by want of thought 
than heart. It will be for you to complete 


70 


tourmalin’s time tljequcs. 


your reparation when the proper time arrives. 
In the mean time, let this be a warning to you, 
sir, never to — ” . . . 

But here Peter made the sudden discovery 
that he was no longer in the music-room of 
the Boomerang , but at home in his old easy- 
chair by his bachelor fireside. 

“ Phew ! ” he muttered to himself, “ that 
was a bad quarter of an hour while it lasted ! 
What an old she-dragon it was! But she’s 
right — it is a warning to me. I mustn’t — I 
really must not draw any more of these con- 
founded time cheques. I’ve made that ship 
too hot to hold me already ! I’d better remain 
forever in contented ignorance of how I spent 
that extra time, than to go on getting into one 
mess after another like this ! It was a wonder 
I got out of this one as well as I did ; but evi- 
dently that old woman knew what Perkins is, 
and saw I wasn’t to blame. Now she’ll ex- 
plain the whole affair to all those girls (who- 
ever they may be), and pitch into Perkins — 
and serve him right ! Pm out of it, at any 
rate ; and now, thank goodness, after to-morrow 
I shall have nothing to do but live contentedly 
and happily with dearest Sophia ! I’d better 


(Spirit (Etyeqne. 


77 


burn this beastly cheque-book — I shall never 
want it again ! ” 

It would have been well for Peter if he had 
burned that cheque-book ; but when it came to 
the point, he could not bring himself to destroy 
it. After all, it was an interesting souvenir 
of some very curious, if not unique, experi- 
ences ; and, as such, he decided to preserve it. 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE FOURTH CHEQUE. 

A Blue Moon. — Felicity in a Flat. — Practical Astrono- 
my. — Temptation and a Relapse. — The Difficulties of 
being Completely Candid. — A Slight Misunderstand- 
ing. — The Avenging Orange . 

Peter Tourmalin enjoyed liis honeymoon 
extremely, in a calm, sober, and rational man- 
ner. Sophia discouraged rapture ; hut, on the 
other hand, no one was better fitted to inspire 
and sustain an intelligent interest in the won- 
ders of Geology; and, catching her scientific 
enthusiasm, Peter spent many happy hours 
with her along the cliffs, searching for fossil 
remains. In fact, the only cloud that threat- 
ened to mar their felicity at all was an unfortu- 
nate tendency on his part to confuse a trilobite 
with a graptolite, a blunder for which Sophia 
had no tolerance. He was hazy about his 


QLt)c imnrtl) €i)eqtte. 


79 


periods, too, until she sent up to town for 
Lyell’s great work on the subject as a birth- 
day surprise for him, and lie read it aloud to 
her on the sands. Altogether, it was a peace- 
ful, happy time. 

And never once in the whole course of his 
honeymoon did he seriously entertain the pos- 
sibility of making any further use of his book 
of blank Time Cheques. If he had contem- 
plated it, no harm w T ould have been done, how- 
ever, as the book was lying among his neglected 
papers at his former chambers. 

He felt no poignant regret when the month 
came to an end, and they returned to town to 
take possession of their Marylebone flat: for 
what was it but shifting the scene of their 
happiness? And after this had taken place, 
Peter was still too much occupied to have leis- 
ure for idle and mischievous thoughts. Mar- 
rying Sophia was, indeed, like loving Sir Rich- 
ard Steele’s fair lady, “ a liberal education ; ” 
and Peter enjoyed the undivided benefit of her 
rare talent for instruction. 

He had been giving his attention to As- 
tronomy of late, an unguarded remark of his 
having betrayed to Sophia the extreme crudity 


80 


ftaarntalin’s (Eirne Ctyeqttee. 


of his ideas respecting that science, and she 
had insisted upon his getting a popular primer, 
with diagrams, and mastering it as a prelimi- 
nary to deeper study. 

One evening he was in the smaller room of 
the two that, divided by an arch, served for 
study and drawing-room combined ; and he 
w^as busily engaged in working out a simple 
practical illustration, by the aid of one of the 
aforesaid diagrams. The experiment required 
a lamp, a ball of cotton, and an orange trans- 
fixed by a knitting-needle, and it had some- 
thing to do with the succession of the seasons, 
solar and lunar eclipses, and the varying lengths 
of day and night on different portions of our 
globe, though he was not very clear what. 

“ Don’t you find you understand the inclina- 
tion of the moon’s orbit to the plane of the 
ecliptic better now ? ” said Sophia, as she came 
through the arch. 

u I think I shall, as soon as I can get the 
moon to keep steadier,” he said, with more 
hope than he felt ; “ and it’s rather hard to re- 
member whereabouts I am supposed to be on 
this orange.” 

“I must get you something to make that 


Qlt)e Jotml) (S^tte. 


81 


clearer,” she said ; “ and you haven’t tilted 
the orange nearly enough. But leave it for a 
moment; I’ve brought you in this packet of 
letters and things the people at your old rooms 
have just sent down. I wish, while I am 
away — I shall be back in a minute — you would 
just run over them, and tell me if there are 
any papers you want kept, or if they may all be 
burned.” 

While she was gone, he undid the string 
which fastened the packet, and found, at the 
bottom of a mass of bills and documents of no 
value, the small oblong cheque-book which he 
had vowed never to see again. Somehow, as 
his eyes rested on its green cover, the old long- 
ing came upon him for a complete change of 
air and scene. He felt as if he must get away 
from that orange : there were no lamps but 
electric lights, and no oranges, on board the 
Boomerang. 

But then, his last visit had not turned out a 
success : what if he were to find he had drawn 
another quarter of an hour with that irate ma- 
tron of the music-room ? 

However, he had left her, as he remembered, 
in a comparatively pacific mood. She under- 
6 


82 


®0nrmalin's ®intc Cheques. 


stood liim better now ; and besides, thanks to 
the highly erratic system (if there was any sys- 
tem) on which the payments were made, the 
chances were immensely against his coming 
across the same old lady twice running. He 
thought he would risk that. 

It was much more likely that he would 
meet Miss Tyrrell or Miss Davenport, or it 
might even be another person to whom he was 
unconsciously allied by the bond of dear friend- 
ship. The only question was, how far he 
could trust himself in such companionship. 
But here he felt himself guilty of a self -distrust 
that was unworthy of him. If, on the two 
previous occasions, he could not call to mind 
that lie had entertained any deeper sentiment 
for either young lady than a cordial and 
sympathetic interest, was it likely that, now he 
was a married man, he would be more suscepti- 
ble ? lie was as devoted to his Sophia as ever, 
but the wear and tear of several successive 
evenings spent in elementary Astronomy were 
telling upon his constitution. Such high think- 
ing did not agree with him; he wanted a 
plainer mental diet for a change. Fifteen min- 
utes spent in the society of some one with a 


&l)e Jourtl) (STl)eque. 


83 


mind rather less cultivated than his wife’s 
would be very restful. Then, when he came 
back, he would give his whole mind to the 
orange again. 

In short, all Peter’s good resolutions were 
thrown overboard once more, and he wrote 
out a cheque for the usual amount in desperate 
fear lest Sophia might return before he could 
get it honored. He felt a certain compunc- 
tion, even then, in presenting it to the severe 
and intensely respectable black marble time- 
piece which recorded the flying hours of his 
domestic bliss. He almost doubted whether it 
would countenance so irregular a proceeding ; 
but, although it was on the verge of striking 
nine, it cashed the cheque without hesita- 
tion. . . . 

It was midday : Peter was sitting on a fold- 
ing seat, protected from the scorching sun by 
the awning which was stretched above and 
along the exposed side of the deck ; and, to his 
great satisfaction, he found Miss Tyrrell re- 
clining in a deck chair between himself and the 
railing, and a pleasant picture of fresh and 
graceful girlhood she presented. 

As usual, he was not in time for the begin- 


84 


tourmalin’s time Cheques. 


ning of the conversation, for she was evidently 
commenting upon something he had said. 

“ How delightful it sounds,” she was saying, 
“ and what a free, unfettered kind of life 
yours must be, Mr. Tourmalin, from your de- 
scription ! ” 

How, this was awkward ; because he must 
have been giving her an airy description of 
his existence as the bachelor and butterfly he 
had ceased to be. He answered guardedly, 
awaiting his opportunity to lead up to a dis- 
closure of the change in his circumstances since 
they had last met. 

“ It is pleasant enough,” he said. “ A little 
dull at times, perhaps,” he added, thinking of 
the orange. 

She laughed. 

“ Oh, you mustn’t expect me to pity you ! ” 
she said. “ I don’t believe you need ever be 
dull, unless you choose. There must always 
be friends who are glad to see you.” 

“ I am glad to think,” said Peter, “that, 
when I do feel dull, I have at least one friend 
— one dear friend — from whom I may count 
upon a welcome ! ” 

He accompanied this speech with such a 


)c .tfaurtl) Cljeqne. 


85 


look, that she could not well pretend to mis- 
take his meaning ; and the next moment he re- 
gretted it, for he saw he had gone too far. 

“ That is a very pretty speech,” she said, with 
a faint flush ; “ but isn’t it a little premature, 
Mr. Tourmalin, considering that we have scarce- 
ly known one another two days ! ” 

For the moment, Peter had forgotten the 
want of consecutiveness in these eccentric 
Time-Cheques. This interview should by rights 
have preceded the first he had had with her. 
He felt annoyed with himself, and still more 
with the unbusiness-like behavior of the Bank. 

“I — I was anticipating, perhaps,” he said. 
“ But I assure you that we shall certainly be 
friends — I may even go so far as to say, dear 
friends — sooner or later. You see if I am not 
right ! ” 

Miss Tyrrell smiled. 

“ Are you sure,” she said, with her eyes 
demurely lowered — are you sure that there is 
nobody who might object to our being on 
quite such intimate terms as that ? ” 

Peter started. Could she possibly have 
guessed, and how much did she know ? 

“ There could be nothing for anybody to ob- 


86 


tourmalin’s time Cliques. 


ject to,” lie said. “ Are you — er — referring 
to any person in particular ? ” 

She still kept her eyes down, but then she 
was occupied just at the moment in removing 
a loose splinter of bamboo from the arm of her 
chair. 

“You mustn’t think me curious or — or in- 
discreet, if I tell you,” she said ; “ but before 
I knew you to speak to, I — I couldn’t help 
noticing how often, as you sat on deck, you 
used to pull something out of your pocket 
and look at it.” 

“ My watch ? ” suggested Peter, feeling un- 
comfortable. 

“ No, not your watch ; it looked more like 
— well, like a photograph.” 

“ It may have been a photograph, now you 
mention it,” he admitted. “ Well, Miss Tyr- 
rell?*’ 

“ Well,” she said, “ I often amuse myself 
by making up stories about people I meet — 
quite strangers, I mean. And, do you know, 
I made up my mind that that photograph was 
the portrait of some one — some lady you are 
engaged to. I should so much like to know 
if I was right or not ? ” 


®l)e iTourtl) €l)crjtte. 


87 


Here was Peter’s opportunity of revealing 
liis real status, and preventing all cliance of 
future misunderstanding. It was not too late ; 
but still it might be best and kindest to break 
the news gradually. 

“ You were partly right and partly wrong,” 
he said : “ that was the portrait of a lady I 
w r as — er — once engaged to.” 

Unless Peter was very much mistaken, there 
was a new light in her face, an added bright, 
ness in her soft gray eyes as she raised them 
for an instant before resuming her labors 
upon the wicker-cliair. 

“ Then you mean,” she said softly, “ that the 
engagement is broken off ? ” 

Peter began to recognize that explanation 
was a less simple affair than it had seemed. If 
he said that he was no longer engaged but 
married to the original of that photograph, 
she would naturally want to know why he had 
just led her to believe, as he must have done, 
that he was still a careless and unattached 
bachelor ; she would ask when and where he 
was married ; and how could he give a straight- 
forward and satisfactory answer to such ques- 
tions ? 


88 


tourmalin’s time tl)erjues. 


And then another side of the case struck 
him. As a matter of fact he was undeniably 
married ; but would he be strictly correct in 
describing himself as being so in this particu- 
lar interview f It belonged properly to the 
time he had made the voyage home, and he 
was certainly not married then. 

In the difficulty he was in he thought it 
best to go on telling the truth until it became 
absolutely impossible, and then fall back on 
invention. 

“ The fact is, Miss Tyrrell,” he said, “ that 
I can’t be absolutely certain whether the en- 
gagement is ended or not at this precise mo- 
ment.” 

Her face was alive with the sweetest sympa- 
thy. 

“ Poor Mr. Tourmalin ! ” she said, “ how 
horribly anxious you must be to get back and 
know ! ” 

u Ah ! ” said Peter, u yes, I — I shall know 
when I get home, I suppose.” 

And he sighed ; for the orange recurred 
once more to his reluctant memory. 

“ Don’t tell me if it pains you too much,” 
she said gently. “ I only ask because I do feel 


®t)e ifonrtf) djeque. 


89 


so sorry for yon. Do yon think that, when 
you do get home, yon will find her married ? ” 

“ I have every reason for believing so,” he 
said. 

“ That will he a terrible blow for you, of 
course ? ” 

“ A blow ? ” said Peter, forgetting himself. 
“ Good gracious me, no ! Why should it be ? 
I — I mean, I shall be prepared for it, don’t 
you know ? ” 

“ Then it’s not so had, after all % ” she said. 

“ It’s not at all bad ! ” said Peter, with a 
vague intention of loyalty to Sophia. “ I like 
it!” 

“ I think I understand,” she said slowly : 
“ you will not be sorry to find she has mar- 
ried ; but she may tell you that she never had 
the least intention of letting you go so easily ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Peter, “ she may tell me that, 
certainly — (“ if she finds out where I’ve been,” 
he added, mentally.) 

“ And,” she continued, “ what would you do 
then ? ” 

“ I suppose,” he said — “ I suppose I should 
have to do whatever she wished.” 

“ Yes ! ” she agreed warmly, “ you will do 


90 


(Eonrmaliu’a ®im e Clones. 


tliat, even if it costs you something, won’t 
you? Because it will be the only right, the 
only honorable course to take — you will be the 
happier for it in the end, Mr. Tourmalin, I 
am sure you will ! ” 

After all, it seemed to him that she must 
understand about the Time Cheques — or, why 
should she urge him to give them up if Sophia 
demanded such a sacrifice ? 

“ No, I shall not,” he said ; “ I shall miss 
these times terribly. You don’t know what 
they are to me, or you wouldn’t speak like 
that ! ” 

“ Mr. Tourmalin ! ” she cried, “ I — I must 
not listen to you ! You can’t possibly mean 
what you seem to mean. It is wrong — wrong 
to me, and wrong to her — to say things that — 
that, for all you know, you are not free to say ! 
Don’t let me think badly of you ! ” 

Peter was absolutely horrified ! What had 
he said to agitate her like that? He had 
merely meant to express the pleasure he found 
in these brief and stolen visits to the Boom- 
erang ; and she had misconstrued him like 
this ! At all hazards, he must explain now, if 
it took him days to make it clear. 


f’ourtl) (Etycrpte. 


91 


“ My dear Miss Tyrrell,” lie protested earn- 
estly, “ yon quite misunderstood me — you did 
indeed ! Pray be calm, and I will endeavor 
to make my position a little clearer than I’m 
afraid I have done. The worst of it is,” he 
added, “ that the whole thing has got into 
such a muddle that, for the life of me, I can’t 
exactly make out what my position is at the 
present moment ! ” 

“ You can if you will only recollect that you 
are this mourning-pin,” said a familiar voice ; 
and, with the abruptness characteristic of the 
Time Cheque system, he was back in his study, 
staring at the ground glass globe of the lamp 
and the transfixed orange. The clock behind 
him was striking nine, and Sophia was offer- 
ing him a pin with a big black head. 

“ Oh ! am I the mourning-pin ? ” he re- 
peated, helplessly. 

“ Really, Peter,” said Sophia, “ I think the 
pin just at this moment, has the more intelli- 
gent expression of the two. Do try to look 
a little less idiotic ! How, see ; you stick the 
pin into the orange to represent your point 
of view, and then keep on twirling it slowly 
round.” 


92 


tourmalin’s time tljeques. 


So Peter twirled tlie orange slowly round 
for the remainder of the evening, though his 
thoughts were far away with Miss Tyrrell. 
He was wondering wdiat she could have thought 
of him, and, worse still, what she would think 
if she could see him as he was employed at that 
moment ? 

“ I tell you what we must do, Peter — 
when you get a little more advanced,” said 
Sophia, enthusiastically, that evening, “ we 
must see if we can’t pick up a small second- 
hand orrery somewhere — it would be so nice 
to have one ! ” 

“ Oh, delightful ! ” he said absently. 

He w r as not very clear as to wdiat an orrery 
was, unless it was the dusty machine that was 
worked with handles at sundry Assembly- 
room lectures he had attended in early youth. 
But of one thing he felt grimly certain — that 
it was something which would render it neces- 
sary to draw more Time Cheques ! 


CHAPTER Y. 


PERIODIC DRAWINGS. 

A Series of Cheques : their Advantages and Drawbacks. 
— An Unknown Factor. — Uncompleted Confidences . — 
Ibsen, with Intervals. — A Disappointment. — A “ Search 
Question ” from Sophia. — Confidence restored. 

Whether it was natural sin on Peter’s part, 
or an excusable spirit of revolt against the op- 
pression of an orrery which Sophia succeeded 
in picking up a great bargain at an auction 
somewhere, his drafts on the Anglo-Austra- 
lian Time Bank did not end with the one re- 
corded in the preceding chapter. 

And, which was more discreditable still, he 
no longer pretended to himself that he meant 
to stop until his balance was completely ex- 
hausted. His only care now was to economize, 
to regulate his expenditure by spreading his 
drawings over as long a period as possi- 


94 


tourmalin's time Cliques. 


ble. With this object he made a careful 
calculation, and found there were still sev- 
eral hours to his credit; whereupon, lest he 
should yield to the temptation of drawing 
too much at any one time, he made out a num- 
ber of cheques for fifteen minutes apiece, and 
limited himself to one a week — an allowance 
which, even under the severest provocation, 
he rarely permitted himself to exceed. 

These weekly excursions, short as they were, 
were a source of the greatest comfort to him, 
especially now that he had thrown off any idea 
of moral responsibility. 

By degrees he possessed himself of most of 
the back-numbers, if they may be so termed, 
of his dual romance. At one time, he found 
himself being presented by the grateful Sir 
William to his daughter ; and now that he 
knew what service he had rendered the Judge, 
he was less at sea than he would certainly have 
been otherwise. Another time, he discovered 
himself in the act of dragging Miss Davenport 
unceremoniously back from the bulwarks ; but 
here again his memory furnished him with the 
proper excuse for conduct which, considering 
that he was not supposed to be acquainted with 


Periodic ‘{Draftings. 


95 


her, he might have found it difficult to account 
for satisfactorily. So, after all, there did seem 
to be a sort of method in the operation of the 
Time Cheques, arbitrary as it appeared. 

One fact that went far to reconcile him to 
his own conscience was the circumstance that, 
though the relations he stood in toward both 
young ladies varied at each interview with the 
most bewildering uncertainty, so that one week 
he would be upon the closest and most confi- 
dential terms, and the next be thrown back 
into the conventional formality of a first in- 
troduction — these relations never again ap- 
proached the dangerous level of sentiment 
which had so alarmed him. 

He flattered himself that the judicious atti- 
tude he was adopting to both was correcting 
the false impressions which might have — and 
for that matter actually had — been given. 

He was always pleased to see them again, 
whichever one it was ; they were simply 
charming friends — frank, natural, unaffected 
girls — and not too clever. Sometimes, indeed, 
lie recognized, and did his best to discourage, 
symptoms of a dawning tenderness on their part 
which it was not in his power to reciprocate. 


96 


tourmalin’s time toques. 


Peter was in no danger of losing his heart to 
either ; possibly the attractions of each served 
as a conductor to protect him from the influ- 
ence of the other. He enjoyed their society, 
their evident appreciation of all he said and 
did, but that was all ; and as they recognized 
that there could be no closer bond than that of 
cordial friendship between them, he was re- 
lieved of all misgivings. 

Surely it w^as a blameless and legitimate 
manner, even for a married man, of spending 
the idle moments which belonged properly to 
the days of his bachelorhood ! Still, he did 
not confide this harmless secret of his to So- 
phia ; he might tell her when it was all over, 
but not so long as her disapproval could affect 
his plans. And he had an instinct that such 
a story as he had to tell would fail to appeal 
to a person of her accurately logical habit of 
mind. 

So, on one occasion when he discovered 
that he had lost one of the loose cheques he 
now carried constantly about with him, it was 
with a feeling very like panic that he reflected 
that he might have dropped it about the house, 
where its unusual form would inevitably pro- 


fteriobic JBratoings. 


97 


voke Sophia’s curiosity ; and he was much re- 
assured when he was able to conclude, from the 
fact that she made no reference to it, that he 
must have lost it out of doors. 

It must have been some time after this before 
his serenity again met with a slight shock : he 
was walking up and down the deck with Miss 
Davenport — it happened to be one of the days 
when he knew her very well indeed. 

“ Sometimes,” she was saying, “ I feel as if I 
must speak to somebody ! ” 

“You know where you will always find a 
very willing listener ! ” he said, with a kind of 
fatherly floweriness that he felt sat well upon 
him. 

“I didn’t mean you,” she said — “to some 
girl of my own age, I meant.” 

“ Oh ! ” said Peter, “ well, that’s a very natural 
feeling, I’m sure. I can quite understand it ! ” 

“Then you wouldn’t mind — you wouldn’t 
be angry if I did ? ” she said, looking up at 
him with her great childishly serious eyes. 

“ My dear child,” said Peter, getting more 
fatherly every moment, “ how could I possibly 
object to your speaking to any lady on board 
if you want to ? ” 

7 


98 


^onrmaiitt's ®ime deques. 


He would have liked to make one or two 
exceptions perhaps ; but he thought he had 
better not. 

“ I am so glad,” she said, “ because I did — 
this very morning. I did so want some one 
to advise me — to tell me what a girl ought to 
do, what she would do herself in my place.” 

“ Ah ! ” said Peter, sympathetically, “ it is — 
er — a difficult position for you, no doubt.” 

“ And for you, too ! ” she said quickly ; “ re- 
member that.” 

“ And for me, too , of course,” said Peter, as- 
senting, as he always did now from habit, to 
anything he did not understand at the mo- 
ment. “My position might be described as 
one of — er — difficulty, certainly. And so you 
asked advice about yours, eh ? ” 

“ I couldn’t very well help myself,” she said. 
“ There was a girl, a little older than I am, per- 
haps, sitting next to me on deck, and she men- 
tioned your name, and somehow — I hardly 
know how it came about — but she seemed so 
kind, and so interested in it all, that — that I 
believe I told her everything. . . .You 

aren’t angry with me, are you, Peter \ ” 

She had been making a confidante of Miss 


JJeriobic SDratmtpgs. 


99 


Tyrrell ! It was awkward, extremely awkward 
and annoying, if, as he began to fear, her con- 
fidences were of a tender character. 

“ I — I am not exactly angry,” he said ; “ hut 
I do think you might be more careful whom 
you speak to. Wliat did you tell her ? ” 

“ All ! ” she said, with the same little quiver 
in her underlip he had noticed before. 

“ That is no answer,” said Peter (it certainly 
was none for him). “ Tell me what you said ? ” 
“ I — I told her about you, and about me . . . 
and — and about him ! ” 

“ Oh ! ” said Peter, “ about me, and you, and 
him ? Well, and — and how did she take it ? ” 
44 She didn’t say very much ; she turned very 
pale. It was rather rough at the time, and I 
don’t think she can be a very good sailor ; for 
before I had even finished she got up and went 
below, and I haven’t seen her since.” 

“ But you told her about 4 him ’ ? ” he per- 
sisted ; 44 and wdien you say 4 him,’ I presume 
you refer to — ” ? 

Here he paused expectantly. 

44 Of course ! ” she answered, with a touch of 
impatience. 44 Whom else should I be likely 
to refer to ? ” 


L.ofC. 


100 tourmalin’s time toques. 


“ It’s excessively absurd ! ” said Peter, driven 
to candor at last. “ 1 — I remember perfectly 
that you did mention all the circumstances at 
the time; but I’ve a shocking memory for 
names, and, just for the minute, I — I find it 
difficult to recall where 4 he ’ comes in exactly. 
Curious, isn’t it ? ” 

“ Curious \ ” she said, passionately ; 44 it’s 
abominable ! ” 

“ It is,” agreed Peter ; 44 1 quite admit that 
I ought to know — only, I don't,” 

44 This is cruel, unmanly ! ” she said, broken- 
ly. 44 How could you forget — how can you 
insult me by pretending that you could forget 
such a thing as that ? It is odious of you to 
make a — a joke of it all, when you know per- 
fectly well that — ” 

44 My — my dear young lady ! ” he declared, 
as she left her speech unfinished, 44 1 am as far 
from any disposition to be jocular as ever I 
was in my life. Let me beg you to be a little 
more explicit. We seem to have got into a 
trifling misunderstanding, which, I am sure, a 
little patience will easily put right.” . . . 

44 Put right ? ” said Sophia, behind him. 
“ I was not aware, Peter, that the clock 


Jkriobic EDratmnigs. 


101 


was out of order. What is the matter with 
it?” 

He almost staggered back from the chimney- 
piece, upon which he had found himself lean- 
ing in an attitude of earnest persuasion. 

“ I — I was only thinking, my love,” he said, 
“ that it wanted regulating.” 

“ If it does,” said Sophia, “ you are hardly 
the proper person to do it Peter. The less 
you meddle with it the better, I should 
think ! ” 

“ Perhaps so, my dear Sophia, perhaps so ! ” 
said Peter, sitting down with the utmost do- 
cility. 

He had narrowly escaped exciting suspicion. 
It was fortunate that there was nothing com- 
promising in the few words she had overheard, 
but he must not allow himself to be caught so 
near the clock again. 

He was not a little disturbed by the tenor of 
this last interview. It was bad enough that in 
some way he seemed to have seriously dis- 
pleased Miss Davenport ; but, besides that, he 
could not contemplate without uneasiness the 
probable effect which her confidences, what- 
ever their exact purport, might have upon 


102 ftnurmaiin’s ®ime Cliques. 

Miss Tyrrell. For liitlierto he had seen no 
necessity to mention to one young lady that he 
was even distantly acquainted with the other. 
As he never by any chance drew them both to- 
gether, there seemed no object in volunteering 
such information. 

But this only made him more apprehensive 
of a scene when his next turn with Miss Tyr- 
rell arrived. Perhaps, he thought, it would be 
wiser to keep away from the Boomerang for a 
week or two, and give them all time to calm 
down a little. 

However, he had the moral, or rather the 
immoral, courage to present a check as usual 
at the end of the next week, with results that 
were even less in accordance with his anticipa- 
tions than before. 

It came about in this way. He was com- 
fortably seated by the ii replace opposite Sophia 
in a cosy, domesticated fashion, and was read- 
ing to her aloud ; for he had been let olf the 
orrery that evening. The book he was reading 
by Sophia’s particular request was Ibsen’s 
DolVs House, and it was not the fault of the 
subject (which interested her deeply), but of 
Peter’s elocution, which was poor, that, on 


flmobic ^Drawings. 


103 


glancing from the text, lie found that she 
had sunk into a profound and peaceful slum- 
ber. 

It was a chance he had been waiting for all 
day. He w*as rather tired of Nora, with her 
innocence and her macaroons, her tarantella 
and her taradiddles, her forgery and her fancy 
dress, and he had the cheque by him in readi- 
ness ; so he stole on tiptoe to the mantelpiece, 
slipped the paper under the clock, and was just 
in time to sink back into his easy-chair before 
it turned out to be one of the revolving-seats 
in the dining-saloon on the Boomerang. 

There was a tumbler of whisky-and-seltzer 
on the table in front of him, and he was sitting 
in close confabulation with his former acquaint- 
ance, Mr. Perkins, the bank manager. 

u That’s precisely what I don’t know, sir, 
and what I’m determined to find out ! ” were 
the first words he heard from the latter gentle- 
man, who looked flushed and angry. “ But 
it’s a scandalous thing, isn’t it \ ” 

“ Very,” said Peter, rather bored and deeply 
disappointed ; for the manager was but an in- 
different substitute for the companion he had 
been counting upon. “ Oh, very ! ” 


104 tourmalin’s time tfjequcs. 


“ Have you happened to hear anything said 
about it yourself ? ” inquired his friend. 

“ Not a word ! ” said Peter, with the veracity 
he always endeavored to maintain on these oc- 
casions. 

“ To go and shift a statement of that kind 
on to my shoulders like that, it’s like the fel- 
low’s confounded impudence ! ” 

For the moment Peter felt a twinge ; could 
the other be referring to anything he had said 
himself in the music-room ? But the manager 
was evidently not angry witli him, so it must 
be some other fellow. Only Peter decided not 
to allude to the faulty working of the time 
cheques, as he had half intended to do. Perkins 
was not in the mood for remonstrances just then. 

“Most impudent, I must say,” he replied. 
“ By the way,” he added carelessly, “ what was 
the statement exactly ? ” 

“ Why, God bless my soul, sir ! ” cried the 
manager, with unnecessary vehemence, “ haven’t 
I been telling you the whole story? Didn’t 
you just ask me who the fellow was who has 
brought me into this business ? ” 

“ So I did,” said Peter, “ and— and who was 


|3criobic JDraroittgs. 


105 


“ Your attention seems very wandering this 
evening ! Why, I told you the old woman 
wouldn’t give me his name.” 

Peter’s alarm returned at this allusion to an 
old woman ; what old woman could it be hut 
the terrible matron whom he had encountered 
in the music-room % However, it was fortunate 
that she had not mentioned any names ; if Per- 
kins knew that he had put all the blame of his 
entanglements upon the manager’s broad shoul- 
ders, he would certainly consider it an ungrate- 
ful return for what was intended as a kindness. 

“ So you said before,” he remarked ; “ some 
old women are so obstinate ! ” 

“ Obstinate ? That’s the first sensible remark . 
you’ve made for a long while ! ” said his candid 
friend. “ I should think she was obstinate ! 
Why, I talked myself hoarse trying to make 
that old harridan believe that I was as innocent 
as an unborn babe of any responsibility for this 
precious scandal — that I’d never so much as 
heard it breathed till she told me of it ; but it 
wasn’t any good, sir ; she would have it that I 
was the originator ! ” 

(“ So you were ! ” thought Peter, though he 
prudently refrained from saying so.) 


106 ftonrmaiin’s ®ime Cheques. 


“ She’s going to kick up the dooce’s own 
delight as soon as she meets her brother ; and 
all I could get her to say was that then, and 
not till then, she would give me an opportunity 
of having it out with the cowardly villain, 
whoever he may be, that has dared to lay all 
this gossip at my door ! ” 

Peter did not quarrel with this arrange- 
ment of the old lady’s, for he would certainly 
not be on board the Boomerang when she ar- 
rived at Plymouth. 

“ Ah ! ” he said, with as much interest as 
he could display in a subject that did not con- 
cern him, “ he’ll find that unpleasant, I dare 
say.” 

“ I think he will ! ” said Mr. Perkins, em- 
phatically. “ Unless he retracts his infamous 
calumny. I — I’ll kick him from one end of 
the ship to the other ! ” 

Involuntarily Peter’s eyes sought his 
friend’s boots, which, as he sat in a corner 
seat with his feet extended, were much in evi- 
dence ; they were strong, suitable boots, stouter 
than those generally worn on a sea-voyage, 
and Peter could not repress a slight shudder. 

“ From one end of the ship to the other,” 


Periodic fthratoings. 


107 


lie repeated ; “ that — that’s rather a long 

way ! ” 

“ Quite long enough for him , though not 
nearly long enough for me ! ” said the Mana- 
ger. “ I’ll teach him to mix me up in these 
squabbles, when I find him, sir — when I find 
him! Here, steward, bring some more of 
these dry biscuits ; you’ll have some more, 
won’t you ? ” 

But Peter was not in the vein for dry 
biscuits at that moment, and the Manager con- 
tinued : 

“ By-the-by, you might help me in this if 
you only will. I want to find out if I can 
before we reach Gib, who this fellow is, but 
the less I talk about the affair the better.” 

“ Oh ! yes,” said Peter. “ I — I wouldn’t 
talk about it at all, if I were you.” 

“ Ho. I dare say you’re right — can’t be 
too careful with an old cat like that. Well, 
what I want you to do is to try and find out 
— quietly, you know — who this infernal fellow 
is ! ” 

“ Well, I dare bay I could do that,” said 
Peter. 

“No one would think a mild, innocent- 


108 


tourmalin's time tljeques. 


looking little chap like you had any particular 
motive for asking : you might ask some of 
the men in the smoking-room, and pick up 
some clew or other.” 

44 So I might,” said Peter, — “ good idea ! ” 

44 Or, I’ll tell you what — you might pump 
the old lady for me, eh ? ” 

44 I don’t think I quite care about pumping 
the old lady,” said Peter, 44 but anything else 
I’ll do with pleasure.” 

“ Thanks,” said the Manager, 44 that’s a 
good fellow. I knew I could depend upon 
you ! ” 

44 You can,” replied Peter, 44 though, I 
fancy,” he added, soothingly — “ indeed, I am 
sure you will find that the old woman has 
made a good deal out of nothing at all.” . . . 

44 What old woman, Peter ? ” asked Sophia 
width drowsy asperity. 44 JSTot Mrs. Linden, 
surely ! ” 

Mrs. Linden! "Was that the name of the 
old she-dragon of the music-room ? Why, of 
course not; he was in his arm-chair by his 
own fire, reading Ibsen to his wife ! 

44 1 don’t know, indeed, my love — it may 
be Mrs. Linden,” he answered cautiously. 


Jkriobic JBratmnjgs. 


109 


“Nonsense!” said Sophia, crossly. “She’s 
not meant to he old in the play, and who says 
‘ the old woman has made a good deal out of 
nothing ? ’ Helmer, or Doctor Rank, or Krog- 
stad, or who? You do read so badly, it’s 
quite impossible to make out ! ” 

“ No one says it, my dear Sophia ; at least, 
it’s not in my edition of the text. You — you 
must have imagined it, I think ! ” 

“I certainly thought I heard you read it 
out,” she replied ; “ but your voice is so mo- 
notonous, that it’s just possible I dropped off 
for a minute or two.” 

“ I dropped off myself about the same 
time,” he confessed hypocritically. 

“ You wouldn’t drop off, or allow me to 
drop off either, Peter,” said Sophia, who was 
now thoroughly awake again, “if you felt a 
more intelligent interest in the tremendous 
problem Ibsen has set in this play. I don’t 
believe you realize in the least what the les- 
son is that he means to teach ; now do you, 
Peter ? ” 

“ Well, I’m not sure that I do altogether, my 
love,” he admitted. 

“I thought as much! What Ibsen insists 


110 tourmalin’s time tljequcs. 


upon is, the absolute necessity of one-ness be- 
tween man and wife, Peter. They must belong 
to each other, complete each other — they must 
be Twin Souls. Are you a Twin Soul, Peter ? ” 

“ Upon my word, my dear, I can’t say ! ” he 
replied, in some perplexity. In the present 
very divided state of his sympathies, he could 
not help thinking that his Soul was more like 
a Triplet. 

“ But think,” persisted Sophia, earnestly : 
“ have you shared all your t^ast with me ? Is 
there nothing you have kept back — no feel- 
ings, no experiences, which you coniine to 
your own bosom ? When you left me to take 
that voyage, you promised that nothing should 
induce you to be more than civil to any woman, 
however young and attractive, with whom Fate 
might bring you in contact. I want you to tell 
me, Peter, whether, when you were returning 
home on board the Boomerang , you kept that 
promise or not ? ” 

Fortunately for him, she put her question 
in a form which made it easy to give a satis- 
factory and a truthful answer. 

“ When I was returning home on board the 
Boomerang ,” he said, “ I did not, to the best of 


Jkriobic EDrcnmngs. 


Ill 


my recollection and belief, exchange two words 
with any female whatever, attractive or other- 
wise — until,” he added, with a timely recollec- 
tion that she had come on board at Gibraltar — 
“until I met you. You pain me with these 
suspicions, Sophia — you do, indeed ! ” 

“ I believe you, Peter,” she said, moved by 
his sincerity, which, paradoxical as it may 
sound, was quite real ; for his intentions had 
been so excellent throughout, that he felt in- 
jured by her doubts. “ You have never told 
me a falsehood yet ; but for some time I have 
been tormented by a fancy that you were con- 
cealing something from me. I can hardly say 
what gave me such an impression — a glance, 
a tone, trifles which, I am glad to think now, 
had not the importance I invested them with. 
Ah, Peter, never treat me as Helmer did Kora ! 
Kever shut me out from the serious side of 
your life, and think to make amends by calling 
me your 'little lark,’ or your 'squirrel;’ you 
must not look upon me as a mere doll ! ” 

" My dear Sophia ! ” he exclaimed, " I should 
never think of addressing you as either a squirrel 
or a lark ; and any one less like a doll in every 
respect I never met ! ” 


112 ^ourmalirfs &ime (Iljequca. 


“ I hope you will always think so, Peter,” 
she said ; “ for I tell you frankly, that if I 
once discovered that you had ceased to trust 
me, that you lived in a world apart into which 
I was not admitted, that very moment, Pe- 
ter, I should act just as Nora did — I should 
leave you ; for our marriage would have 
ceased to be one in any true sense of the 
word ! ” 

The mere idea of being abandoned by So- 
phia made him shiver. What a risk he had 
been running, after all ! Was it w r orth while 
to peril his domestic happiness for the sake 
of a few more conversations with two young 
ladies, whose remarks were mostly enigmatic, 
and for whom he was conscious in his heart 
of hearts of not caring two straws ? 

“ Sophia,” he said plaintively, “ don’t talk 
of leaving me! What should I do without 
you? Who would teach me Astronomy and 
things? You know I don’t care for anybody 
but you! Why will you dwell on such un- 
pleasant subjects ? ” 

“ I was wrong, Peter,” she confessed — “ in- 
deed, I doubt you no longer. It was all my 
morbid imagination that led me to do you 


Periodic (UratoinigB. 


113 


such injustice. Forgive me, and let us say no 
more about it ! ” 

“ I do forgive you,” was his generous reply 
to this appeal, which, coming from Sophia, 
was a very handsome apology, “and we will 
say no more about it.” 

And, upon the whole, Peter thought he had 
got out of a particularly tight place with more 
credit than he had any reason to expect — a con- 
clusion in which the reader, however much he 
or she may disapprove of his conduct on moral 
grounds, will probably be inclined to agree with 
him. 


CHAPTER VI. 


FOIL AND COUNTERFOIL. 

The Duties of Authorship. — Peter’s Continued Perversity 
and its Unforeseen Results. — “Alfred.” — The Tragic 
Note. — An Interrupted Crisis. — A Domestic Surprise. 

It would be more satisfactory to an author’s 
feelings, especially when he is aware that he 
will be held accountable by an indignant pub- 
lic for the slightest deviation on his hero’s part 
from the narrow path of ideal rectitude — it 
would be more satisfactory to be able to record 
that this latest warning had a permanent effect 
upon Peter Tourmalin’s rather shifty disposi- 
tion. 

But an author, even of a modest perform- 
ance such as this, can not but feel himself in a 
position of grave responsibility. He must re- 
late such facts as he has been able to collect, 
without suppression on the one side or distor- 


Toil anb Counterfoil. 


115 


tion on tlie other. It is a duty he can not and 
dare not evade, under penalty of forfeiting the 
confidence of his readers. 

Peter Tourmalin did draw more Time 
Cheques, he did go back to the Boomerang , 
and it would be useless to assert the contrary. 
We may be able to rehabilitate him to some 
extent before this' story concludes ; at present, 
we can only follow his career with pain and 
disapproval. 

Some allowances must be made for the pe- 
culiar nature of the case. To a person of Pe- 
ter’s natural inclination to the study of psy- 
chology, there was a strong fascination in 
watching the gradual unfolding and revelation 
of two characters so opposite and so interest- 
ing as those of Miss Tyrrell and Miss Daven- 
port. That was the point of view he took 
himself, and it is difficult to say that such a 
plea is wholly without plausibility. 

Then, too, he was intensely curious to know 
how it would all end, and he might ascertain 
that in the very next quarter of an hour he 
drew ; there was absolutely no telling. 

As for Sophia’s threat, that soon lost all 
terrors for him. She would abandon him, no 


116 tourmalin's time tljeques. 


doubt, if she ever knew ; but wlio was going 
to tell her, and how could she possibly discover 
the truth unaided, especially now that her 
awakening suspicions had been lulled? His 
secret was perfectly safe, and he could unravel 
the tangled thread of the history of his remain- 
ing extra hours on board the Boomerang with- 
out any other hindrance than that of his own 
scruples — which practically amounted to no 
hindrance at all. 

So Peter continued to be the slave of his 
clock and his cheque-book, from the counter- 
foils of which he was disagreeably surprised to 
discover that he had drawn more frequently, 
and in consequence had an even smaller balance 
left to his credit than he had supposed. 

However, he consoled himself by concluding 
that one or two cheques had probably been 
mislaid, and were still unpresented, while he 
was entitled to some additional time in respect 
of compound interest; so that he need not 
stint himself at present. Fifteen minutes a 
week was not an extravagant allowance ; and 
sooner or later, even with the utmost economy, 
a day would come when his balance w r ould be 
exhausted, and his cheques returned from the 


foil anb Counterfoil. 


117 


clock marked “ Ho effects — refer to drawer,” 
or some equivalent intimation. 

But that day was still distant, and in the mean 
time he went on drawing with a light heart. 

It was a Saturday evening, the day on which 
Peter generally presented his weekly cheque ; 
but, although it was nearly half-past ten, he 
had had no opportunity of doing so as yet. 
He was in the drawing-room, and Sophia was 
reading aloud to him this time, an article on 
“ Bi-metalism ” from one of the reviews ; for she 
had been an ardent bi-metalist from early girl- 
hood, and she naturally wished to win Peter 
from his Laodicean apathy on so momentous a 
subject. He listened with surface resignation, 
although inwardly he was in a fever of impa- 
tience to get back upon the Boomerang , where 
Miss Davenport had been more interesting than 
usual on his last visit. But he could hardly 
rise and slip a cheque under the clock before 
Sophia’s very eyes wdthout inventing some 
decent pretext for such an action, and bi-metal- 
ism had reduced him to a mental condition 
which was no longer fertile in expedients. 

Suddenly Sophia stopped reading and re- 
marked : 


118 tourmalin's ti me toques. 


“ If I remember right, Professor Dibbs 
lias stated the argument more correctly in his 
little book on Currency . It would be inter- 
esting to compare the two ; I’ll get it.” 

As Professor Dibbs’ s w r ork was apparently 
on a shelf in the study, Sophia took the lamp 
into the further room. 

“ Now’s my time ! ” thought Peter, as he 
brought out the cheque from his waistcoat- 
pocket. “ I mayn’t get such another chance 
this evening.” 

Even if Sophia could lay her hand on the 
volume at once, he would have had his quar- 
ter of an hour and be comfortably back long 
before she could pass the arch which sepa- 
rated the two rooms ; for, as we have seen, this 
instantaneous action was one of the chief rec- 
ommendations of the Time Cheques. 

So he cashed his cheque, and 'was at once 
transported to the secluded passage between 
the deck-cabins, the identical place where he 
had first conversed with Miss Davenport. He 
was on the same steamer-chair, too, and she 
was at his side ; the wind carried the faint 
strains of a set of “ Lancers ” to them ; from 
all of which circumstances he drew the infer- 


-Toil anb Counterfoil. 


119 


ence that he was going to he favored with the 
sequel to the conversation that had been so 
incongruously broken in upon by Sophia’s 
question respecting the comparative merits of 
bottle-jacks in the Tottenham Court Road 
warehouse. This was so far satisfactory, in- 
dicating as it did that he was at last, after 
so much trying back, to make some real 
progress. 

“ What I want to know first,” Miss Daven- 
port was saying, “ is whether you are capable 
of facing danger for my sake ? ” 

“ I thought,” he remonstrated mildly, “ that 
I had already given proof of that ! ” 

“ The danger you faced then threatened 
only me. But, supposing you had to meet a 
danger to yourself, could you be firm and 
cool ? Much will depend on that.” 

“ I — I think,” he answered frankly, “ that 
perhaps you had better not count upon me. 
I have never been a man to court danger ; it 
might find me equal to it if it came — or it 
might not.” 

He did not mean to give it the oppor- 
tunity. 

“ Then we are lost, that is all ! ” she said, 


120 tourmalin’s time toques. 


with gloomy conviction. “ Lost, both of 
ns ! ” 

Peter certainly intended to be lost if the 
moment of trial ever arrived. Even now he 
was resolving, for about the twentieth time 
that this positively should be his very last 
cheque ; for he by no means liked the man- 
ner in which the situation seemed to be de- 
veloping. 

But, seeing that the danger, whatever it 
might be, was still far enough off, he thought, 
very sensibly, that it would be a pity to cloud 
this last interview by any confession of pusilla- 
nimity. Knowing that he would return no 
more, he could surely afford to treat with 
contempt any consequences his imprudence 
might have entailed. 

So he laughed, as he said : 

“ You musn’t conclude that I’m a coward 
because I don’t care to boast. On the con- 
trary, I believe I am not exactly deficient in 
physical courage.” 

“ You are not ? ” she cried, relieved. “ Then 
— then you would not be afraid to face a des- 
perate man ? ” 

“ Kot a dozen desperate men, if it comes to 


Yoil anb Counterfoil. 


121 


that ! ” said Peter, supported by the certainty 
that it would not come to so much as half a 
desperate man. 

“Then I can tell you now what I have 
scarcely dared to think of before. Peter, you 
will have to reckon with Alfred ! ” 

“ Well, I’m not much alarmed at anything 
Alfred may do ! ” said Peter, wondering who 
the deuce Alfred was. 

“ He will come on board ; he will demand 
an explanation ; he will insist on seeing you ! ” 
she cried. 

u Let him ! ” said Peter. 

“ You are brave — braver even than I thought ; 
but, ah ! Peter, you don’t know what Alfred 
is!” 

Peter did not even know who Alfred was, 
but he was unmoved. 

“You leave Alfred to me,” he said, confi- 
dently, “ I’ll settle him ! ” 

“ But I must tell you all. I — I led you to 
believe that Alfred would raise no objections ; 
that he would quietly accept facts which it is 
useless to contend against. He will do nothing 
of the sort ! He is a man of violent passions 
— fierce and relentless when wronged. In the 


1 2Z ftaurmaiins ftimc Cheques. 


first burst of fury at meeting you, when he 
comes on board, he is capable of some terrible 
vengeance, which nothing but perfect coolness 
on your part — perhaps not even that — will be 
able to avert. And I — I have brought this 
upon you ! ” 

“ Don’t cry,” said Peter. “ You see, I’m 
perfectly calm. I don’t mind it. If Alfred 
considers himself wronged by me — though, 
what I have ever done to give him any reason 
for revenging himself by personal violence, I 
must say I can’t conceive — ” 

She stopped him. 

“ Ah ! you have given him cause enough ! ” 
she cried. “What is the use of taking that 
tone to me ? ” 

“ I want to see Alfred’s point of view, that’s 
all,” said Peter. “ What does he complain 
of?” 

“ What does he complain off You ask me 
that, when — Peter,” she broke off suddenly, 
“ there is somebody round the corner listening 
to us — a woman, I’m sure of it. I heard the 
rustle of a dress. ... Go and see if there is 
not ! ” 

Go and see, and find himself face to face 


^oii ani> Counterfoil. 


123 


with Miss Tyrrell, who might faint or go into 
hysterics. Peter knew better than that. 

“ It’s merely your fancy,” he said, soothing- 
ly. “ Who can be there ? They are all at the 
other end of the ship, dancing. Go on telling 
me about Alfred. I don’t yet understand how 
I have managed to offend him.” 

“ Are you really so dull,” she said, with a 
slight touch of temper, “that you can’t see 
that a man who thought he was going to meet 
the woman he was engaged to, and finds she 
has learned to care for — for somebody else, is 
likely, even if he was the mildest man in the 
world — which Alfred is far from being — to 
betray some annoyance ? ” 

“ Ho, I see that,” said Peter ; “ but — but he 
can’t blame me. / couldn’t help it ! ” 

He said this, although her last speech had 
opened his eyes considerably. He knew now 
who Alfred was, and also that, in some moment 
of madness which was in one of the quarters 
of an hour he had not yet drawn, he must have 
placed himself in the position of Alfred’s rival. 

What was he to do ? He could not, without 
brutality, tell this poor girl that he had not the 
smallest intention of depriving Alfred of her 


124 ^Tourmalin’s ®ime (Jtl)cqncs. 


affections ; it was better, and easier too, to 
humor her for the short time that remained. 

“ Alfred will not take that as an excuse,” 
she said. “ It is true we could neither of us 
help what has happened, but that will not alter 
the fact that he is quite capable of shooting us 
both the instant he comes on deck. Alfred is 
like that ! ” 

“Well,” said Peter, unable to abstain from 
a little more of such very cheap heroism, “ I 
do not fear death — with you ! ” 

“ Say that once more,” she said ; which Peter 
very obligingly did. “ Oh, Peter, how I ad- 
mire you now ! How little I knew you were 
capable of going so calmly to your doom ! 
You give me courage. I feel that I, too, can 
face death ; only not that death — it is so horrid 
to be shot ! ” 

“ It would be unpleasant,” said Peter, placid- 
ly, “ but soon over.” 

“No,” she said, “I couldn’t bear it. I can 
see him pointing his revolver — for he always 
carries one, even at a picnic — first at your 
head, then mine ! No, Peter ; since we must 
die, I prefer at least to do so without blood- 
shed ! ” 


iFoil cntb Counterfoil. 


125 


“ So do I,” lie agreed, “ very much.” 

“You do?” she cried. “ Then, oh, Peter ! 
why should we wait any longer for a fate that 
is inevitable ? Let us do it now, together ! ” 

“ Do wliat ? ” said Peter. 

“ Slip over the side together ; it would be 
quite easy, no one will see us. Let us plunge 
arm-in-arm into the merciful sea ! A little 
struggle — a moment’s battle for breath — then 
all will be over ! ” 

“ Yes, I suppose it would be over then ” ; 
he said ; “ but we should have to swallow such 
a lot of salt water first ! ” 

He reflected that, even if he emerged from 
the agonies of drowning, to find himself bi- 
metalizing with Sophia, the experience would 
be none the less unpleasant while it lasted. 
There really must be some limit to his com- 
plaisance, and he set it at suicide. 

“ Ho,” he said ; “ I have always held that to 
escape a difficulty by putting an end to one’s 
own life is a cowardly proceeding.” 

“ I am a coward,” she said ; “ but oh, Peter, 
be a coward with me for once ! ” 

“ Ask me anything else ! ” he said firmly, 
but not stoop to cowardice. There is really 


126 tourmalin’s time (Deques. 


no necessity for it, you see,” lie added, feeling 
that he had better speak out plainly. “ I have 
no doubt that Alfred will listen to reason ; and 
when he is told that, although, as is excusable 
enough with two natures that have much in 
common, we — we have found a mutual pleas- 
ure in each other’s society — there has been 
nothing on either side inconsistent with the — 
the most ordinary friendship ; when he hears 
that . . . Where are you going ? ” for she was 
rising from her chair. 

“ Where am I going ? ” she replied, with an 
unsteady laugh. “Why, overboard, if you 
care to know ! ” 

“ But you mustn’t ! ” he cried, scarcely know- 
ing what he said. “ The — the captain wouldn’t 
like it. There’s a penalty, I’m sure, for leav- 
ing the ship while it’s in motion — I’ve seen it 
on a notice ! ” 

“ There is a penalty for having believed in 
you,” she replied bitterly, “ and I am going to 
pay it ! ” 

She broke away and rushed out upon the 
deck into the starlight, with Peter in pursuit. 
Here was a nice result of his philandering, he 
thought bitterly. And yet, what had he done ? 


.foil ait b Counterfoil. 


127 


How could he help the consequences of follies 
committed in time he had not even spent yet ? 
However, what he had to do now was to pre- 
vent Miss Davenport from leaping overboard 
at any cost. He would even promise to jump 
over with her, if that would soothe her, and of 
course he could appoint some time next day — 
say, after breakfast for the performance. 

He ran down the shadowy deck until he 
overtook a flying female form, whose hand 
he seized as she crouched against the bul- 
warks. 

“Miss Davenport, if you will only just 
...” he began, when, without warning, he 
found himself back upon his own hearth-rug, 
holding Sophia firmly by the wrist ! 

He felt confused, as well he might, but he 
tried to pass it off. 

“ Did you find Dibbs on Currency , my dear ? ” 
he inquired, with a ghastly smile, as he dropped 
her hand. 

“ I did not,” said Sophia, gravely ; “ I was 
otherwise engaged. Peter, wdiat have you been 
doing \ ” 

“ What have I been doing ? ” he said. 
“ Why, it’s not a minute since you went into 


128 


tourmalin’s tint c <2Il)cr|uc0. 


tlie study to get that book ; look at the clock 
and see ! ” 

“ Don’t appeal to the clock, Peter — answer 
my question. How have you been occupied ? ” 

“ I’ve been waiting for you to finish that 
article on bi-metalism,” he had the hardihood 
to say. “ Deuced well- written article it is, too ; 
so clear ! ” 

“ I don’t refer to what you were doing here,” 
said Sophia. “ What were you doing on board 
the Boomerang f ” 

“ It — it’s so long ago that I really forget,” 
he said. “ I — I read Buckle on deck, and I 
talked with a man named Perkins — nice fellow 
he was — manager of a bank out in Australia.” 

“ It’s useless to prevaricate, Peter ! ” she 
said. “ What I want to know is, w T ho w r as that 
girl, and why should she attempt to destroy 
herself ? ” 

He could hardly believe his ears. 

“ Girl ! ” he stammered. “ How do you 
know that any girl attempted anything of that 
sort ? ” 

“ How do I know, Peter ? ” said Sophia. “ I 
will tell you how I know. I was on board the 
Boomerang too ! ” 


.foil ani> Counterfoil. 


129 


At this awful piece of intelligence, Peter 
dropped into his arm-chair, speechless and 
quaking. What would come next he could 
not tell ; but anything seemed possible, and 
even probable, after that ! 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE CULMINATING CHEQUE. 

Sophia gives an Explanation and Requests one. — Her 

Verdict. — Peter Overruled. 

“ Before I say anything else,” said Sophia, 
who was still standing upon the hearth-rug, 
gazing down upon the wretched Peter as he sat 
huddled up in his chair, “ you w r ould probably 
like to know how I came to follow you to that 
ship. It is a long story, hut I will tell you if 
you wish to hear ? ” 

Peter’s lips moved without producing any 
articulate sounds, and Sophia proceeded : 

“ Some weeks ago,” she said, “ one afternoon 
when you had gone out for a walk, I found 
what seemed to be a loose cheque on the carpet. 
I knew how carelessly you leave things about, 
and I picked it up and found that, though it 
was like a cheque in other respects, it was 


©l)c (Huhninating GTl)ef}ne. 131 


rather curiously worded. I could not under- 
stand it at all, but it seemed to have something 
to do with the ship you came home from Aus- 
tralia in ; so, intending to ask you for an ex- 
planation when you came in, I thought in the 
mean time I would put it in some safe place 
where I should be sure to see it, and I put it 
behind the clock ; and then — oh, Peter !— ” 

Peter understood. The cheques were all 
payable to “ self or bearer.” Sophia had inno- 
cently presented one, and it had been paid. 
If he had only taken “ order 5> cheques, this 
would not have happened, but it was too late 
now ! He continued to imitate the tactics of 
that eminent strategist, Brer Rabbit ; in other 
words, he “lay low and said nuffin,” while 
Sophia continued : 

“ Then, without in the least knowing how I 
came there, I found I was on a big steamer, 
and as I walked along, perfectly bewildered, I 
saw the name Booiuerang painted on some 
fire-buckets, and of course I knew then that 
that was your ship. I fancied that perhaps, 
in some way, you might be on board too, and 
would explain how this had happened to me. 
At all events, I decided to find out if you were ; 


132 (tourmalin's (time Cheques. 


and, seeing a girl reading on deck, I took a 
chair near her, and after a few introductory 
remarks I mentioned your name. The effect 
upon her was such as to convince me that she 
felt more than an ordinary interest in you. By 
degrees I drew from her the whole story of 
her relations with you : she even asked me — 
me — for advice ! ” 

So Miss Davenport’s confidante had not 
been Miss Tyrrell after all — but Sophia ! If 
he had only known that before ! 

“ I could not speak to her,” continued So- 
phia, “ 1 felt stifled, stupefied by what I had 
heard ! I could bear no more ; and so I rose 
and left her, and walked down some stairs, 
and somehow found myself back in our own 
room again ! I w T as more bewildered than 
ever. I looked for the cheque, but there was 
nothing, and soon I was forced to believe that 
the whole thing was imaginary. Still, I was 
not wholly satisfied. You may remember 
how I questioned you one evening when you 
were reading the DolVs House to me ; well, 
your answers quite reassured me for the time. 

I told myself that my suspicions w r ere too 
wildly improbable not to have been a delusion. 


Cl)£ Culminating Clique. 133 


I was even afraid tliat my brain must be 
slightly affected, for I had always prided my- 
self upon having my imagination under thor- 
ough control. But by degrees, Peter — by de- 
grees I began to doubt again whether it was 
really nothing but fancy on my part. I noticed 
that your manner was suspiciously odd at 
times. I discovered that there was one draw- 
er in your secretary that you kept carefully 
locked. I caught your eye wandering toward 
the clock from time to time. What I sus- 
pected I hardly know ; but I felt certain that 
I should find the explanation of that mystery 
in the locked drawer. I tried key after key, 
until I found one that fitted. Oh, I am not 
at all ashamed of it ! Had I not a right to 
know ? There were no letters, nothing but a 
cheque-book ; but that cheque-book proved to 
me that, after all, I had imagined nothing : 
all the cheques were the same as the one I 
found on the carpet! I tore one out and 
kept it by me, and from that time I watched 
you closely. I saw how restless and impa- 
tient you were this evening, and I was cer- 
tain that you were intending to use a cheque 
from that book. You were bent on getting 


134 tourmalin’s time toques. 


back to the Boomerang , and I was equally 
determined that, if I could help it, you 
should not go alone. Only I could not be 
quite sure how you managed to get there, and 
at last I hit upon a little device for finding 
out. There is no such person as Professor 
Dibbs, Peter ; I invented him to put you off 
your guard. As I passed into the other room 
with the lamp, I saw you, reflected in the mir- 
ror over the study chimneypiece, rise and go 
to the drawing-room mantelpiece : you had a 
slip of paper in your hand — a cheque, of 
course. I had the cheque I tore out hidden 
in the waistband of my dress ; and so, as soon 
as I saw you slip your cheque behind the clock 
in the drawing-room, I put my cheque behind 
the one in the study. I was on the deck at 
once, and it was dark, but I could hear your 
voice and another’s — round a corner. I held 
my breath and listened. What I heard, you 
know ! ” 

Peter shrank up in his chair, utterly con- 
founded by this last vagary on the part of the 
Time Cheques. He certainly would not have 
supposed that the mere presentation even of a 
“ bearer ” cheque by Sophia would entitle her 


(ilxxlminatiixg €t)cqxxc. 


135 


to the same fifteen minutes he was receiving 
himself. He could only account for it by the 
fact that the two cheques were cashed simul- 
taneously at two separate clocks ; hut even this 
explanation was not wholly satisfactory. 

lie found his voice at last : 

“Well,” he said, “now that you know all, 
what are you going to do about it, Sophia ? I 
— would rather know the worst ! ” 

“ I will tell you that in good time,” she re- 
plied ; “ but, first of all, I want you to tell me 
exactly how you came to have these cheques, 
and what use you made of them on previous 
occasions ? ” 

So, slightly reassured by her manner, which 
was composed, Peter gave her a plain, un- 
varnished account of the way in which he had 
been led to deposit his extra time, and the 
whole story of his interviews with Miss Daven- 
port. He did not mention any others, because 
he felt that the affair was quite complicated 
enough without dragging in extraneous and 
irrelevant matter. 

“I may have been imprudent,” he con- 
cluded ; “ but I do assure you, Sophia, that in 
all the quarters of an hour I have had as yet, 


136 tourmalins time tfjeqnes. 


I never once behaved to that young lady in 
any capacity but that of a friend. I only went 
on drawing the cheques because I wanted a 
little change of air and scene now and then. 
You have no idea how it picked me up ! ” 

“ I saw in what society it set you down, 
Peter,” was Sophia’s chilling answer. 

“ You — you musn’t think she is always 
like that,” he urged. “ It took me quite by 
surprise — it was a most painful position for 
me. I think, Sophia, your own sense of fair- 
ness will acknowledge that, considering the 
awkwardness of my situation, I — I behaved as 
well as could be expected. You do admit that, 
don’t you ? ” 

Sophia was silent for a minute or so before 
she spoke again. 

“I must have time to think, Peter,” she 
said : “ it is all so strange, so contrary to all 
my experience, that I can hardly see things as 
yet in their proper light. But I may tell you 
at once that, from what I was able to observe, 
and from all you have just told me, I am in- 
clined to think that you are free from actual 
culpability in the matter. It was quite clear 
that that very forward girl was the principal 


)c Cnltninating (fUjeqtte. 137 


throughout, and that you were nothing more 
than an unwilling and most embarrassed ac- 
cessory.” 

This was so much more lenient a view than 
he had dared to expect that Peter recovered 
his ordinary equanimity. 

“ That was all,” he said. “ I am very glad 
you saw it, my dear. I was perfectly help- 
less ! ” 

“ And then,” said Sophia, “ I was more than 
pleased by your firm refusal to commit suicide. 
What you said was so very sound and true, 
Peter.” 

“ I hope so, said Peter, with much com- 
placency. “ Yes, I was pretty firm with her ! 
By the way,” he added, “ you — you didn’t hap- 
pen to see wdiether she really did jump over- 
hoard, I suppose ? ” 

“ I came away just at the crisis,” she said. 
“ I thought you would tell me ! ” 

u I came away, too,” said Peter. “ It doesn’t 
matter, of course ; but still I should have 
rather liked to know whether she meant it 
or not.” 

“ How can you speak of it so heartlessly, 
Peter ? She may have been trying to frighten 


138 tourmalin's time Cheques. 


you ; she is just the kind of girl who would. 
But she may have been in earnest after all ! ” 

“ You see, Sophia,” said Peter, “ it doesn’t 
matter whether she was or not — it isn’t as if 
it had ever really happened.” 

“Not really happened ? But I was there ; 
I heard, I saw it — nothing could be more 
real ! ” 

“ At any rate,” he said, “ it only happens 
when I use those cheques ; and she can’t pos- 
sibly carry out her rash intention until I 
draw another — which I promise you faithfully 
I will never do. If you doubt me, I will 
burn the book now before your eyes ! ” 

With these words he went to the drawer and 
took out the cheque-book. 

“ No,” said Sophia, “ you must not do that, 
Peter. There is much about this Time Bank 
that I don’t pretend to understand, that I can 
not account for by any known natural law ; 
but I may not disbelieve my own eyes and 
ears ! These events that have happened in 
the extra time you chose to defer till now are 
just as real as any other events. You have 
made this girl’s acquaintance ; you have — I 
don’t say through any fault of your own, but 


Cl)e Culminating Cljegue. 139 


still you have — caused her to transfer her 
affections from the man she was engaged to, 
and, being a creature of ill-regulated mind and 
no strength of character, she has resolved to 
put an end to her life rather than meet his 
just indignation. She is now on the very 
point of accomplishing this folly. "Well, badly 
as she has behaved, you can not possibly leave 
the wretched girl there! You must go back 
at once, restrain her by main force, and not 
leave her until you have argued her into a 
rational frame of mind.” 

Peter was by no means anxious to go back 
at first. 

“ It’s not at all necessary,” he said ; “ and 
besides, I don’t know if you’re aware of it, 
but with the way these cheques are worked, 
it’s ten chances to one against my hitting off 
the right fifteen minutes! Still,” lie added, 
with an afterthought, “ I can try , of course, if 
you insist upon it. I can take my chance 
with another fifteen minutes, but that must be 
the last. I am sick and tired of this Boom- 
erang business, I am indeed ! ” 

Shameful as it is to state, he had altered 
his mind from a sudden recollection that he 


140 tourmalins time tljcqncs. 


would not mind seeing Miss Tyrrell for just 
once more. He liad not drawn her for several 
weeks. 

“ Ho,” said Sophia, thoughtfully ; “ I see 
your objection — fifteen minutes is not enough, 
unless you could be sure of getting the suc- 
cessors to the last. But I have an idea, Peter 
— if you draw out the whole balance of your 
time, you can’t possibly help getting the right 
fifteen minutes somewhere or other. I think 
that’s logical ? ” 

“ Oh, devilish logical ! ” muttered Peter to 
himself, who had reasons, which he could not 
divulge to her, for strongly disapproving of 
such a plan. 

“ The fact is, my dear,” he said, “ it — it’s 
rather late this evening to go away for any 
time ! ” 

“ You forget,” she said, “ that, however 
long you are away, you will come back at 
exactly the same time you start. But you 
have some other reason, Peter — you had better 
tell me ! ” 

“Well,” he owned, “I might come across 
some one I’d rather not meet.” 

“ You are thinking of the man that girl 


Cl )t Culminating Cl)eqne. 141 


said she had been engaged to — Alfred, wasn’t 
it?” 

Peter had forgotten Alfred for the moment ; 
and besides, he was not likely to turn np till 
the Boomerang got to Plymouth, and he knew 
his extra hours stopped before that. Still, 
Alfred did very well as an excuse. 

“ Ah ! ” he said, “ Alfred. You heard what 
she said about him ? A violent character — 
with a revolver, Sophia ! ” 

“ But you told her you were not afraid of 
him. I felt so proud of you when you said 
it. And think, you may be able to bring 
them together — to heal the breach between 
them ! ” 

“ He’s more likely to make a breach in me 
that won’t heal ! ” said Peter. 

“ Still, as you said yourself, it isn’t as if it 
w r as all actually existing. What does it matter, 
even if he should shoot you ? ” 

“ I don’t see any advantage in exposing my- 
self to any such unpleasant experiences, even 
if they are only temporary,” he said. 

“ It is not a question of advantage, Peter,” 
rejoined Sophia ; “ it is a simple duty, and I’m 
surprised that you don’t see it as such. What- 


142 ftourmaliu's ®ime (Etjqucs. 


ever tlie consequences of your conduct may 
be, you can not evade them like this; you 
have chosen to begin, and you must go on ! 
I am quite clear about that. Let me see ” — 
(here she took the cheque-book, and made 
some rapid calculations from the counterfoils) 
— “ yes, you have two hours and three-quarters 
at least still standing to your credit ; and then 
there’s the compound Interest. I will tear out 
all these small cheques and burn them.” Which 
she did as she spoke. “ And now, Peter, sit 
down and fill up one of the blank ones at the 
end for the whole amount.” 

“ Do you know, Sophia,” said Peter, “ it 
occurs to me that this is just one of those 
matters which can only be satisfactorily ar- 
ranged by — er — a woman’s tact. Suppose I 
make the cheque payable to you now — eh ? ” 

“ You mean, that you want me to go instead 
of you ? ” she asked. 

“Well,” said Peter, “if it wouldn’t be 
bothering you, my dear, I think perhaps it 
would be — ” 

“ Don’t say another word,” she interrupted, 
“ or I shall begin to despise you, Peter ! If I 
thought you meant it seriously, I would go up- 


®I)e Culminating Cljegnc. 143 


stairs, put on my bonnet, and go back to mam- 
ma forever. I could not bear to be the wife 
of a coward ! ” 

“ Oh, I’ll go ! ” said Peter, in much alarm. 
“ I said what I did out of consideration, not 
cowardice. But wouldn’t to-morrow do just 
as well, Sophia ? It is late to turn out ! ” 

“ To-morrow will not do as well,” she said : 
“ fill up that cheque to-night or you will lose 
me forever ! ” 

“ There ! ” said Peter, as he scrawled off the 
cheque. “ Are you satisfied now , Sophia ? ” 

“ I shall be when I see you present it.” 

“ Er — yes,” he said ; “ oh ! I mean to pre- 
sent it — presently. I — I think I’ll take a small 
glass of brandy before I go, my dear, to keep 
the cold out.” 

“ As you will certainly be in a summer, if 
not tropical, temperature the next moment,” 
she said, “ I should advise you to take nothing 
of the kind.” 

“ I say,” he suggested, “ suppose I find she 
has jumped overboard — what shall I do then ? ” 

“Do! Can you possibly ask? You will 
jump after her, of course ! ” 

“ It’s easy to say ‘ of course,’ ” he said ; 


144 ^ourntalin’s &ime (Cheques. 


“ but I never could swim more tlian twenty 
strokes ! ” 

“Swim tliose twenty then, and let come 
wdiat will ; you will be back all tlie sooner. 
But don’t stand there talking about it, Peter — 
go!” 

“ I’m going,” he said meekly. “ You’ll sit 
up for me, Sophia, if — if I’m late, v r on’t 
you ? ” 

“ Don’t be absurd ! ” she said. “ You know 
perfectly w T ell that, as I said before, you won’t 
be away a second.” 

“ It won’t be a second for you,” he said, 
“but it will be several hours for me; and 
goodness only knows what I may have to go 
through in the time ! However,” he added, 
with an attempt to be cheerful, “it may all 
pass off quite pleasantly — don’t you think it 
may, Sophia ? ” 

“ How can I tell ? You will only find out 
by going.” 

“ I’m going, my dear — I’m going at once ! 
. . . You’ll give me just one kiss before I 
start, won’t you ? ” 

“ I will give you no kiss till you come back 
and I hear what you have done,” said Sophia. 


&t)z Culminating Cheque. 145 


“ Very well,” lie retorted ; “ you may be 
sorry you refused when it’s too late ! I may 
never come back at all, for anything I can 
tell ! ” 

And, little as he knew it, he spoke with an 
almost prophetic anticipation of what was to 
come. Never again was he destined to stand 
on that hearth-rug ! 

But he dared not linger longer, as he could 
see from her expression that she would suffer 
no further trifling ; and he slipped his last 
cheque under the clock, — with consequences 
that must be reserved for the next chapter. 


10 


CHAPTEK Till. 


PAID IN HIS OWN COIN. 

In Suspense : a Gleam of Comfort. — Darkness Returns. 
— The Rock Ahead. — Sir William Lends His Binocu- 
lar. — Reappearance of an Old Enemy. — A New Dan- 
ger. — Out of the Frying-pan . 

Peter found himself below this time, in the 
broad passage, furnished with seats and tables 
for writing, and which divided the passengers’ 
cabins. Above, he heard a confused stir and 
bustle of excitement, the trampling of feet, the 
creaking and rattle of chains, orders shouted 
in English and Hindustani. From the absence 
of all vibration, in the vessel, it was evident 
that she had been brought to. Why f 

Peter guessed the cause only too easily : the 
unhappy Miss Davenport had indeed suc- 
ceeded in carrying out her rash design. She 


flaib in l)is oton Coin. 


147 


had jumped overboard, and the captain had 
stopped the engines and lowered a boat in the 
hope of picking her up before she sank ! And 
he himself — why was he skulking below like 
this ? He had only too much reason to fear 
that he must have been a witness of the fatal 
leap ; and, instead of plunging overboard to the 
rescue as a hero ought, had rushed down here 
ignominiously. 

Had he been observed? Was his connec- 
tion with the tragedy suspected? Could he 
venture up on deck and inform himself ? He 
tried, but his nerve failed him, and he sank 
into one of the chairs in a state of almost un- 
bearable suspense. 

Just at this moment, he saw the skirts of a 
muslin gown appear at the head of the broad 
companion which led to the dining-saloon. 
Some one, a girl evidently, was descending. 
Presently, he saw her fully revealed — it was 
Miss Tyrrell. 

Perhaps he had never been so glad to see 
her before. She was a friend, a dear friend 
She, at least, would sympathize with him, 
would understand that it was not his fault if 
he had been too late to avert a catastrophe. 


148 ^Dtirmalin's ®inte Cheques. 


She was coming to him. Her eyes were friend- 
ly and pitiful as they sought his. She, at 
least, did not turn from him ! 

“ How pale, how terribly pale you look ! ” 
she said. “You must nerve yourself to see 
her — it can not be long now ! ” 

“ Has she been brought on board yet ? ” he 
gasped. “ Is — is there any hope ? ” 

“We shall know very soon. It is possible 
you may find that all is at an end.” 

“Ah! you think so? But — but no one 
will say it was my fault, will they ? I — I was 
ready to make any sacrifice — only somehow, 
when the moment comes, I am apt to lose my 
presence of mind.” 

“Yes, I know,” she said feelingly; “you 
are not quite yourself yet, but I know you 
would make the sacrifice if your duty demand- 
ed it. But she may have taken advantage of 
your absence to free herself and you from all 
obligation, may she not ? ” 

This suggestion comforted Peter. 

“ She must have done ! ” he said. “ Yes, of 
course. I could not be expected to prevent it, 
if I wasn’t there ; and I wasn’t, when it came 
to the point. But, Miss Tyrrell, do you think 


ftaiir in l)is otmt (Coin. 


149 


that it is really all over ? She — she may come 
round after all ! ” 

“ She may — but of course, if it is true that 
she is engaged to another, she can have no 
possible claim on you .” 

What a sensible right-minded way this girl 
had of looking at things ! thought Peter, not 
for the first time. 

“ Why, of course she can’t ! ” he cried. 
“ And it is true. She is engaged — to a fellow 
of the name of Alfred.” 

“ You know that as a fact ? ” she exclaimed. 

“ I know it from her own lips, and I need 
not say that I should be the last person to wish 
' to — er — upset so desirable an arrangement.” 

“ Why — why didn’t you tell me all this be- 
fore ? ” she inquired. 

“ I — I didn’t think it would interest you,” 
he replied. 

Here, to Peter’s utter astonishment, she 
covered her face with her hands. 

“Hot interest me ! ” she murmured at last. 
“Oh, how could you — how could you keep 
this from me? Can’t you see — can’t you 
guess what a difference it has made in my feel- 
ings ? ” 


150 tourmalin’s time (Eljeqttes. 


It might be very dull of him, hut he could 
not perceive why the fact of Miss Davenport’s 
engagement to Alfred should affect Miss Tyr- 
rell so strangely as this ! 

“I may call you ‘Peter’ now,” she said. 
“ Oh, Peter, how happy you have made me ! 
"Why did you keep silence so long ? It was too 
quixotic ! Don’t you understand even yet ? ” 

“No,” said Peter, blankly, “Pm afraid I 
don’t.” 

“ Then, if you are really so diffident, I — I 
must tell you that if you were to ask a certain 
question once more, I might — I don’t say I 
should, but I might — meet it with a different 
answer ! ” 

“ Good Heavens ! ” he ejaculated, involun- 
tarily. 

“ But you must not ask me yet — not just yet. 
I must have time to consider. I must tell papa 
before I decide anything. You will wait a 
little longer, won’t you, Peter ? ” 

“ Yes,” he said, feeling limp, “ I’ll wait. I’d 
rather ! ” 

She smiled radiantly upon him, and then fled 
lightly up the companion, leaving him with 
fresh cause for uneasiness. He could no longer 


J)aib in l)is own (Enin. 


151 


doubt that, for some reason, she expected liim 
to propose to her, which it seemed he had al- 
ready, in one of those confounded extra min- 
utes, been unprincipled enough to do ! Now 
she had gone to inform her father, the judge, 
and he would have the disagreeable task of 
disabusing them before long ! 

At this point he started, believing that he 
was visited by an apparition ; for a cabin-door 
opened, and Miss Davenport came out and 
stood before him. 

But she was so obviously flesh and blood 
— and so dry — that he soon saw that all 
his anxiety on her account had been super- 
fluous. 

“ Then you — you didn’t jump overboard 
after all ? ” he faltered, divided between relief 
and annoyance at having been made to come 
back, as it were, on false pretenses. 

“ You know who prevented me, and by what 
arguments ! ” she said, in a low strained voice. 

“Do I ? ” he said, helplessly. 

“ Who should, if you do not ? Did not you 
implore me not to leave you, and declare that, 
if I would only have courage and wait, we 
should be happy even yet ? And I did wait. 


152 tourmalin s ®ime (Eijequrs. 


For what, I ask you, Peter Tourmalin — for 
what f ” 

“ It’s really no use asking me” he said, “ for 
I’ve no idea ! ” 

“ I waited — to discover that all this time you 
have had a secret understanding with another ; 
that you are about to transfer your fickle affec- 
tions to — to that fair girl ! Don’t deny it, 
Peter ! I was listening. I see it all — all ! ” 

“ I wish to goodness I did!” he said. “ I 
never was in such a muddle as this in my life. 
I can only assure you that if that young lady 
really imagines that I am, or can be, anything 
more to her than a friend, she is entirely mis- 
taken. I was just about to go up and explain 
as much to her father ! ” 

“You are not deceiving me?” she asked, 
earnestly. “ You are sure f ” 

“ I will swear it, if you wish ! ” he replied. 

“ No,” she said, relenting visibly, “ your 
word is enough. I do believe you, and I am 
almost happy again. So long as you do not 
desert me, even Alfred loses half his terrors ! ” 
“ Exactly,” he said ; “ and now, if you will 
excuse me, I’ll just run up on deck and settle 
this other business.” 


$aii> in t)is otmt Coin. 


153 


He went up to the hurricane-deck, and found 
the ship had anchored. In front was a huge 
barren rock, with lines of forts, walls, and tele- 
graph poles ; and at its base a small white town 
huddled. They had arrived at Gibraltar, which 
accounted for the absence of motion. 

As he stood there, taking this in, he was ac- 
costed by Sir William Tyrrell, who thrust his 
arm through Peter’s in a friendly manner. 

“ My dear boy,” said the judge, heartily, 
“ Yiolet has just told me the good news. I can 
only say that I am delighted — most delighted ! 
I have always felt a warm interest in you, ever 
since that affair of — ” 

“ Of the monkey,” said Peter. “ I am very 
glad to hear it, Sir William ; but — but I ought 
to tell you that I am afraid Miss Tyrrell was 
— a little premature. She misinterpreted a re- 
mark of mine, which, in point of fact, referred 
to somebody else altogether.” 

“ Then you have no more reason than before 
for assuming that your fiancee has thrown you 
over. Am I to understand that ? ” 

“No more reason than before,” admitted 
Peter. 

“ And your uncertainty still continues ? Y ery 


154 tourmalin’s time toques. 


unsatisfactory, I must say ! I do think, my dear 
fellow, that, in your position, you should have 
been more careful to refrain from betraying any 
interest in Yiolet until you knew that you were 
free to speak. As it is, you may have cast a 
shadow upon her young life that it may take 
years to dispel ! ” 

Peter’s heart sank into his boots for very 
shame at this gentle and almost paternal re- 
proof. 

“Yes,” continued the worthy judge, “Yio- 
let is a high-minded girl, scrupulously sensitive 
on points of honor ; and, unless the young lady 
you are under a semi-engagement to should re- 
lease you of her own free will, I know my daugh- 
ter too well to doubt that she will counsel you 
to fulfill your contract and renounce all hope 
so far as she is concerned.” 

Peter felt a little easier. 

“ I — I am prepared to do that,” he said. 

“Well, I don’t say myself that I go quite so 
far as she does ; but strictly, no doubt, a prom- 
ise is a promise, and should be kept at all haz- 
ards. You have done all that a man can hon- 
orably do to put himself right. You have 
written to this young lady, so I understand, 


J)aii> in i)is oum (Enin. 


155 


informing lier of tlie change in your senti- 
ments, and offering, nevertheless, to redeem 
your promise if she insisted upon it. I think 
that was the general purport of your letter.” 

Here was one more evil fruit of his extra 
time ! What would Sophia think, or say, or 
do, if such a letter as that ever came to her 
knowledge ? Fortunately, that at least was 
impossible ! 

“ You have some grounds,” the judge went 
on, “for assuming that the lady has already 
treated the contract as non-existent — a person 
called Alfred, I think my daughter said ? ” 

“ Ho, that was a mistake,” explained Peter. 
“ Alfred is engaged to quite a different person.” 

“ Well, in any case, it is quite possible that 
you may obtain your release when you meet 
her ; and your suspense will soon be over now. 
Miss — er — Pincher, is it? — will probably be 
on board the ship before many minutes. I 
see the boats are putting out from the harbor 
already.” 

“ What ! ” cried Peter, with the terrible con- 
viction darting through his mind that Sir Will- 
iam spoke the bare truth. 

Sophia had said something about meeting 


156 tourmalin’s time tljeqnes. 


him at Gibraltar ; but if she had done so dur- 
ing the real voyage, how could he have the 
meeting all over again, with this ghastly vari- 
ation? If he could only remember whether 
she had come out, or not ! It was singular, 
incomprehensible ! But his memory was a 
blank on such a vital fact as this ! 

“ Would you like to have my field-glass for a 
moment ? ” said Sir William, considerately. 

Peter took them, and the next moment the 
binocular fell from his nerveless hands. He 
had seen only too clearly the familiar form of 
Sophia seated in the peaked stern of a small 
craft which a Spanish boatman was “ scissoring ” 
through the waves toward the Boomerang. 

“Come, courage!” said the Judge kindly, 
as he picked up his glass and wiped the lenses. 
“ Don’t be nervous, my boy. You don’t know 
what she may have to say to you yet, you know ! ” 

“ Ho, I don’t ! ” he groaned. “ I — I think 
I ought to go down to the gangway and meet 
her,” he added, tremulously — not that he had 
any intention of doing so, but he wanted to be 
alone. 

Before the Judge could even express his 
approbation of Peter’s course, Tourmalin was 


Ipaiir in Ijia own Coin. 


157 


down on the saloon-deck seeking a quiet spot 
wherein to collect his thoughts. 

Before he could find the quiet spot, how- 
ever, he almost ran into the arms of the ma- 
tron from Melbourne, whom he had not seen 
since the episode of the music-room. 

“ A word with you, Mr. Tourmalin ! ” she 
said. 

“ I — I really can’t stop now,” stammered 
Peter. “ I — I’m expecting friends ! ” 

“ I, too,” she said, “ am expecting a relation, 
and it is for that reason that I wish to speak 
to you now. My brother, who has been stay- 
ing at Gibraltar on account of his health, will 
be as determined as I am to trace and punish 
the infamous calumny upon the name and 
career of our honored parent.” 

“ I dare say, madam,” said Peter — “ I dare 
say. Y ery creditable to you both — but I really 
can’t stop just now ! ” 

“ You appear to forget, sir, that, unless you 
can satisfactorily establish your innocence, my 
brother will certainly treat you as the person 
primarily responsible for an atrocious slan- 
der!” 

“ A slander — upon your father ! , . < Me f ” 


158 tourmalin’s time Cheques. 


said the indignant Peter. “ Why, I never 
heard of the gentleman ! ” 

“ Denial will not serve you now,” she said. 
“ 1 have not only your own admissions in the 
music-room, but the evidence of more than 
one trustworthy witness, to prove that you 
circulated a report that my dear father — one 
of the most honored and respected citizens of 
Melbourne — began his Colonial career as — as 
a transported convict ! ” 

After all, as the hapless Peter instantly saw, 
he might have said so, for anything he knew, 
in one of those still unexhausted extra quarters 
of an hour ! 

“ If I said so, I was misinformed,” he 
said. 

“Just so; and in our conversation on the 
subject, you mentioned the name of the per- 
son who used you as his mouthpiece to dis- 
seminate his malicious venom. What I wish 
to know now is, whether you are prepared or 
not to repeat that statement ? ” 

Peter recollected now that he had used ex- 
pressions implicating Mr. Perkins although 
merely as the origin of totally different com- 
plications. 


Jhib in I)is ormt (floin. 


159 


“I can’t positively go so far as that,” lie 
said. u I — I made the statement generally.” 

“ As yon please,” she said. “ 1 can merely 
say that my brother, whom I expect moment- 
arily, is, although an invalid in some respects, 
a powerful and determined man ; and unless 
you repeat in his presence the sole excuse you 
have to offer, he will certainly horsewhip you 
in the presence of the other passengers. That 
is all, sir ! ” 

“ Thank you — it’s quite enough ! ” mur- 
mured Peter, thinking that Alfred himself 
could hardly be much more formidable ; and 
he slipped down the companion to the cabin- 
saloon, where he found Miss Davenport anx- 
iously expecting him. 

“ He is here,” she whispered. “ I have just 
seen him through the port-hole.” 

“ What — the old lady’s brother ! ” he replied. 

“ He has no sister who is an old lady. I 
mean Alfred.” 

“ Alfred f ” he almost yelped. “ Alfred 
here!” 

u Of course he is here. Is not his battalion 
stationed at Gibraltar ? You knew it, we were 
to meet him here ! ” 


160 tourmalin's time Cheques. 


“ I didn’t, indeed — or I should never have 
come ! ” he protested. 

“Don’t let us waste words now. He is 
here ; he will demand an explanation from 
you. He has his pistol with him — I could 
tell by the bulge under his coat. We must 
both face him ; and the question is, What are 
you going to say ? ” 

Peter thrust his hands through his carefully 
parted hair : 

“ Say ! ” he repeated. “ I shall tell him the 
simple, straightforward truth. I shall frankly 
admit that we have walked, and sat, and talked 
together ; but I shall assure him, as I can hon- 
estly, that during the whole course of our ac- 
quaintance I have never once regarded you in 
any other light but that of a friend.” 

“And you suppose that, knowing how I 
have changed, he will believe that ! ” she cried. 
“ He will fire long before you can finish one of 
those fine sentences ! ” 

“ In that case,” suggested Peter, “ why tell 
him anything at all? Why not spare him, 
poor fellow, at all events for the time? It 
will only upset him just now. Let him sup- 
pose that we are strangers to one another ; and 


JJaib in l)is oton Coin. 


161 


you can break the truth to him gently when 
you reach England, you know. I’m sure that’s 
much the more sensible plan ! ” 

She broke into strange mirthless laughter. 

“ Your prudence comes too late,” she said. 
“ You forget that the truth was broken to him 
some days ago, in the letter I wrote from Brin- 
disi.” 

“ You wrote and broke it to him at Brin- 
disi ! ” cried Peter. “ What induced you to do 
that?” 

“ Why, you / ” she retorted. “ You insisted 
that it was due to him; and though I knew 
better than you what the effect would be, I 
dared not tell you the whole truth. I wanted 
to end the engagement, too ; and I scarcely 
cared then what consequences might follow. 
How they are upon us, and it is useless to try 
to escape them.. Since we must die, let us go 
up on deck and get it over ! ” 

“ One moment,” he said ; “ Alfred can wait 
a little. I — I must go to my cabin first, and 
put on a clean collar.” 

And with this rather flimsy pretext, he 
again made his escape. He made up his mind 
what to do as he rushed toward his cabin. He 
11 


162 tourmalin's time €l)cqncs. 


could hardly have been anything like an hour 
on board the Boomerang as yet ; he had to get 
through at least another three before he could 
hope for deliverance. His only chance was to 
barricade himself inside his cabin, and stead- 
fastly refuse to come out, upon any considera- 
tion whatever, until he was released by the 
natural expiration of time. 

He sped down the passage, and found, to his 
horror, that he had forgotten the number of 
his berth. However, he knew where it ought 
to be, and darted into an open door, which he 
fastened securely with hook and bolt, and 
sank breathless on one of the lower berths. 

“ You seem in a hurry, my friend ! ” said a 
voice opposite; and Peter’s eyes, unused at 
first to the comparative dimness, perceived 
that a big man was sitting on the opposite 
berth, engaged in putting on a pair of spiked 
cricket-shoes. He had bolted himself inside 
the cabin with Mr. Perkins ! 


CHAPTER IX. 


COMPOUND INTEREST. 

Back to the Fire Again. — A Magnanimous Return . — 
Catching at Straws. — Two Total Strangers. — Purely 
a Question of Precedence . — “ Hemmed in ” and “ Sur- 
rounded.” — The Last Chance. 

The Bank Manager looked across at Peter 
with an amused smile ; he seemed quite friend- 
ly. Whether he was in Peter’s cabin, or Peter 
in his, did not appear ; and perhaps it was 
not of much consequence either way. If the 
cabin belonged to Mr. Perkins, he did not, at 
all events, appear to resent the intrusion. 

“ You seem rather put out about something,” 
he said again, as Peter was still too short of 
breath for words. 

“ Oh, no,” panted Peter, “ it’s nothing. 
There was so much bustle going on above that 
I thought I’d come in here for a little quiet ; 
that’s all.” 


164 tourmalin’s time ttjcques. 


“ ’Well,” said the manager, “ I’m glad you 
looked in ; for, as it happens, you’re the very 
man I wanted to see. I dare say you’re won- 
dering why I’m putting on these things ? ” 
Peter nodded his head, which was all he felt 
equal to. 

“ Why, I’ve just been having a talk with 
that old slie-grifhn from Melbourne. Perhaps 
you don’t know that her brother is coming on 
board directly ? ” 

“ O yes, I do f ” said Peter. 

“ Well, it seems she means to denounce me 
to him as the slanderer of her father. She 
may, if she chooses ; my conscience is perfectly 
clear on that score. Ho one can bring any- 
thing of the sort home to me; and I’ve no 
doubt I shall soon satisfy him that I’m as inno- 
cent as an unborn babe. Still, I want you, as 
a respectable man and the only real friend I 
have on board, to come with me and be my 
witness that you never heard such a rumor 
from my lips ; and besides, sir, we shall have 
an opportunity at last of seeing the unutterable 
scamp who has had the barefaced impudence 
to say I told him this precious story! She’s 
going to produce him, sir ; and if he dares to 


(Eumpounb Interest. 


165 


stand me out to my face — well, A^’ll know why 
I’ve put on these shoes ! Come along ; I can’t 
let you oil.” 

Peter dared not refuse, for fear of attracting 
his friend’s suspicions. He could only trust 
to slipping away in the confusion ; and so, un- 
fastening the cabin-door, the manager caught 
the unresisting Tourmalin tightly by the arm, 
and hurried him along the central passage and 
up the companion. 

Even Miss Davenport 'would have been a 
welcome diversion at that moment; but she 
vras not there to intercept him, and he reached 
the upper deck more dead than alive. 

“ Where’s that old vixen now f ” exclaimed 
the Manager, dropping Peter’s arm. “ Here, 
just stay where you are a minute, till I find her 
and her confounded brother ! ” 

He bustled off, leaving Tourmalin by the 
davits, quite incapable of action of any kind in 
the presence of this new and awful dilemma. 
He had been spreading a cruel and unjustifia- 
ble slander against an irreproachable colonial 
magnate, whose son was now at hand to de- 
mand reparation with a horsewhip. He could 
only propitiate him by denouncing Perkins as 


166 tourmalin's time tlieques. 

his informant, and if he did that he would be 
kicked from one end of the ship to the other 
with a spiked boot ! This was Nemesis indeed, 
and it was Sophia who had insisted upon his 
exposing himself to it. What a fool he was 
not to fly back to that cabin while he could ! 

He turned to flee, and as he did so a hand 
was passed softly through his arm. 

“Not that way, Peter!” said Miss Tyrrell’s 
voice. 

A wild, faint hope came to him that he 
might be going to receive one of the back 
quarters of an hour. The caprices of the Time 
Cheques were such that it was quite possible 
he would be thrown back into an earlier inter- 
view. Little as he felt inclined for any social 
intercourse just then, he felt that it would 
afford him a brief interlude — would at least 
give him breathing-time before his troubles 
began again. 

“ I will go wherever you choose,” lie said ; 
“ I am in your hands.” 

“I came,” she said, “to take you to her. 
She is asking for you.” 

“She?” said Peter. “For heaven’s sake, 
who ? ” 


Compounb interest. 


167 


“ Why, Miss Pinceney, of course. I knew 
who it was directly I saw her face. Peter, is 
it true, as papa tells me, that I misunderstood 
you just now — that she is not engaged to Al- 
fred \ ” 

“ Alfred ? Ho ! ” he replied. “If she is en- 
gaged to any one at all, I have strong grounds 
for supposing it’s to me ! ” 

“ Then we must submit, that is all,” said 
Miss Tyrrell. “ But we do not know her de- 
cision -yet ; there is still hope ! ” 

“ Yes,” he said, “ there is hope still. Let us 
go to her ; make haste ! ” 

He meant what he said. Sophia could at 
least extricate him from a portion of his diffi- 
culties. Miss Tyrrell — magnanimous and un- 
selfish girl that she was, in spite of her talent 
for misapprehension — was ready to resign him 
to a prior claim, if one was made. And 
Sophia was bound to claim him ; for if the en- 
gagement between them had been broken off, 
he could not now be her husband, as he was. 
Even Time Cheques must recognize accom- 
plished facts. 

He followed her across the ship, turning 
down the very passage in which he had sat 


168 tourmalin’s time tljcques. 


through more than one cheque with Miss 
Davenport ; and on the opposite side he found 
Sophia standing, with her usual composure, 
waiting for his arrival. 

She was so identically the same Sophia that 
he had left so lately, that he felt reassured. 
She, at least, could not be the dupe of all this. 
She had come — how, he did not trouble him- 
self to think, — but she had come with the 
benevolent intention of saving him ! 

“ How do you do, my love % ” he began. “ I 
— I thought I should see you here.” 

“ You only see me here, Peter,” she replied, 
in a voice that trembled slightly, in spite of 
her efforts to command it, “ because I felt 
very strongly that it was my duty to put an end 
at the earliest moment to a situation which has 
become impossible ! ” 

“ I’m sure,” said Peter, “ it is quite time it 
was put an end to — it couldn’t go on like this 
much longer.” 

“ It shall not, if I can help it,” she said. 
“ Miss Tyrrell, pray don’t go away; what I 
have to say concerns you too.” 

“No; don’t go away, Miss Tyrrell,” added 
Peter, who felt the most perfect confidence in 


(Eompounb Interest. 


169 


Sophia’s superior wisdom, and was now per- 
suaded that somehow it was all going to be ex- 
plained. “ Sir W illiam, will you kindly step this 
way too? Sir William Tyrrell — Miss Pinceney. 
Miss Pinceney has something to tell you which 
will make my position thoroughly clear.” 

“ I have only to say,” she said, “ that your 
honorable and straightforward conduct, Peter, 
has touched me to the very heart. I feel that 
I am the only person to blame, for it was I 
who insisted upon you subjecting yourself to 
this test.” 

“ It was,” said Peter. “ I told you some- 
thing would happen — and it has ! ” 

“ I w r ould never hold you to a union from 
which all love on your side had fled ; do not 
think so, Peter. And now that I see my — my 
rival, I confess that I could expect no other 
result. So, dear Miss Tyrrell, I resign him 
to you freely — yes, cheerfully — for, by your 
womanly self-abnegation you have proved 
yourself the worthier. Take her, Peter ; you 
have my full consent ! ” 

“ My dear young lady,” said the Judge, 
deeply affected, “ this is most noble of you ! 
Allow me to shake you by the hand.” 


170 tourmalin’s time t^eques. 


“ I can’t thank yon, dear, dear , Miss Pin- 
ceney!” sobbed his daughter. “ Peter, tell 
her for me how we shall both bless and love 
her all our lives for this ! ” 

Peter’s brain reeled. Was this Sophia’s 
notion of getting him out of a difficulty '( 

As he gazed distractedly around, his eyes 
became fixed and glazed with a new terror. A 
stalwart stranger, with a bushy red beard, was 
coming toward him, with a stout riding-whip 
in his right hand. By his side walked the 
Manager, from whose face all vestige of friend- 
liness had vanished. 

“As soon as you have quite finished your 
conversation with these ladies,” said the Man- 
ager, with iron politeness, “ this gentleman 
would be glad of a few moments with you ; 
after which I shall request your attention to a 
little personal affair of my own. Don’t let us 
hurry you, you know ! ” 

“I — I won’t,” returned Peter, hurriedly; 
“ but I’m rather busy just now : a little later, 
I — I shall be delighted.” 

As he stood there, he was aware that they 
had withdrawn to a bench some distance away, 
where they conferred with the elderly lady 


(Eomponnb Interest. 


171 


from Melbourne. He could feel tbeir an- 
gry glare upon him, and it contributed to 
rob him of the little self-possession he had 
left. 

“ Sophia,” he faltered piteously, “ I say this 
is too bad — it is, really ! You can't mean to 
leave me in such a hole as this — do let’s get 
home at once ! ” 

Before she could make any reply to an ap- 
peal which seemed to astonish her considerably, 
a thin, bilious-looking man, with a face twitch- 
ing with nervous excitement, a heavy black 
mustache, and haggard eyes, in which a red 
fire smoldered, appeared at the gangway and 
joined the group. 

“I beg your pardon,” he said, lifting his 
hat ; “ forgive me if I interrupt you, but my 
business is urgent — most urgent ! Perhaps 
you could kindly inform me if there is a — a 
gentleman” (the word cost him a manifest 
struggle to pronounce) — “ a gentleman on board 
of the name of Tourmalin ? I have a little 
matter of business ” (here his right hand stole 
to his breast-pocket) “ to transact with him,” he 
explained, with a sinister smile that caused 
Peter to give suddenly at the knees. 


172 tourmalin’s time tl)eqnes. 


“ It’s that infernal Alfred ! ” he thought. 
“ How I am done for ! ” 

“ Why,” said Miss Tyrrell, who was clinging 
affectionately to Peter’s arm, “ this is Mr. Tour- 
malin! You can speak to him now — here, if 
you choose. We have no secrets from one an- 
other — have we, Peter ? ” 

“ I have lately learned,” said the gloomy 
man, “ that a certain Mr. Tourmalin has stolen 
from me the affection of one who was all heaven 
and earth to me ! ” 

“ Then it must be another Mr. Tourmalin,” 
said Miss Tyrrell, “not this one; because — 
surely you do not need to be told that you 
have no rivalry to fear from him ? ” she broke 
off, with a blush of charming embarrassment. 

Alfred’s scowl distinctly relaxed, and Peter 
felt that, after all, this unfortunate misunder- 
standing on Miss Tyrrell’s part might prove 
serviceable to him. Since Sophia, for reasons 
of her own, refused to assist him, he must ac- 
cept any other help that offered itself. 

“ The best proof I can give you of my inno- 
cence,” he said, “ is to mention that I have the 
honor to be engaged to this lady.” 

He heard a stifled shriek from behind him 


Compcmnb Interest. 


173 


as lie made this assertion, and the next moment 
Miss Davenport, who must have come up in 
time to catch the last words, had burst into the 
center of the group. 

“ It is not true ! ” she cried. “ Alfred, you 
must not believe him ! ” 

“ Hot true ? ” exclaimed Alfred, Sophia, Miss 
Tyrrell, and Sir William, in the same breath. 

“Ho!” said Miss Davenport; “at least, if 
he has really engaged himself, it is within the 
last few minutes, and with the chivalrous in- 
tention of shielding me ! Peter, I will not be 
shielded by such means. Our love is too pre- 
cious to be publicly denied. I can not suffer 
it ; I will acknowledge it, though it costs me 
my life ! You,” she added, turning to Sophia 
— “ you can prove that I speak the truth. It 
was to you that I confided, that day we met on 
deck, the story of our fatal attachment.” 

“ I really think you must be mistaken,” 
said Sophia coldly. “ If you confided such a 
story to anybody, it could not have been to 
me ; for, until a few minutes ago, I had never 
set foot upon this ship.” 

How Sophia could stand there and, remem- 
bering, as she must do, her recent appropri- 


174 GTourmalin’s ftitnc Cheques. 


ation of the Time Cheque, tell such a down- 
right lib as this, passed Peter’s comprehension. 
But, as her statement was in his favor so far 
as it went, he knew better than to contradict 
it. 

“ Whether it was you or not,” insisted Miss 
DavenjDort, “ it is he and no one else who 
rendered my engagement to Alfred utterly 
repugnant to me ! Can you look at him now, 
and doubt me longer ? ” 

“ So, Peter,” said Sophia severely, “ you 
could not even be faithful to your unfaithful- 
ness ! ” 

Miss Tyrrell made no comment, but she 
dropped his arm as if it had scorched her 
fingers, whereupon Miss Davenport clung to it 
in her stead, to Peter’s infinite dismay and con- 
fusion. 

“ He is faithful ! ” she cried. “ It is only 
a mistaken sense of honor that made him ap- 
parently false. Yes, Alfred, what I wrote to 
you, and the postscript he added, is the sim- 
ple truth. We can not command our own 
hearts. Such love as I once had for you is 
dead — it died on the fatal day which brought 
him across my path. We met — we love ; deal 


(ilomjjottnb Interest. 


175 


with us as you will ! I would rather, ever so 
much rather, die with him than lose him 
now ! ” 

Alfred was already beginning to fumble 
fiercely in his breast-pocket. Peter felt the 
time had arrived for plain speaking ; he could 
not submit to be butchered under a ridiculous 
misapprehension of this kind. 

“ Listen to me ! ” he said eagerly, “ before 
you do anything rash, or you may bitterly re- 
gret it afterward. I do assure you that I am 
the victim — we are all the victims of a series 
of unfortunate cheques — I should say, mis- 
takes. It’s absurd to make me responsible for 
the irregular proceedings of a nonsensical 
Bank. If I had spent my time as I ought to 
have done at the time, instead of putting it 
out on deposit I should never have dreamed 
of employing it in any kind of philander- 
ing ! ” 

“ That,” said Sophia, “ is undeniable ; but 
you spent it as you ought not to have done ! ” 

“Such a speech comes ill from you,” he 
said, reproachfully, “ after having expressly 
condoned the past ; and, however I may have 
appeared to philander, I can conscientiously 


176 tourmalin’s time tljequcs. 


declare that my sentiments toward both of 
these young ladies — both , you understand — 
have been restricted to a respectful and — and 
merely friendly esteem. . . . Don’t shoot, 
Alfred ! . . . I thought that was quite under- 
stood on all sides. Only have a little more 
patience, Alfred, and I will undertake to con- 
vince even you that I could not for a moment 
have contemplated depriving you of the hand 
of this extremely charming and attractive 
lady, who will not let go my arm. . . . I — I 
am a married man ! ” 

“ Married ! ” shrieked Miss Davenport, 
cowering back. 

“ Married ! ” exclaimed Miss Tyrrell, as she 
hid her face upon her father’s shoulder. 

“ Maried ! ” shouted the Judge. “ By heav- 
ens, sir, you shall account to me for this ! ” 

“ Married ! ” cried Sophia.. “ Oh, Peter, I 
was not prepared for this ! When ? Where ? ” 
“ When f Where f ” he echoed. “ You 
were not prepared for it ? Perhaps you will 
ask me next who my wife is ! ” 

“ I shall not indeed,” said Sophia, “ for I 
have no longer the slightest curiosity on such 
a subject ! ” 


Qrompounfr Interest. 


177 


Peter collapsed upon tlie nearest bench. 

“ Sophia ? ” he cried hoarsely, “ why keep 
this up any longer? Surely it is gone far 
enough — you can't pretend you don’t know ! ” 
But while he spoke the words, he saw sud- 
denly that his attempt to force her hand was 
hopeless : she was quite sincere in her surprise ; 
she was the Sophia of six months ago , and no 
amount of explanation could ever make her 
comprehend what had happened since that time ! 
And here Alfred broke his silence. 

“What you have just confessed,” he said, 
“ removes my last scruple. I might, for all 1 
can tell, have stayed my hand and spared your 
life upon your promise to make Maud happy ; 
for, in spite of her treatment of me, her happi- 
ness is still my first consideration. But now’ 
you have declared that impossible, — why, as 
soon as I can get this revolver out of my 
pocket — for it has stuck in the confounded 
lining — I will shoot you like a rabbit ! ” 

“Sir William,” cried Peter, “I appeal to 
you ! You are the representative of Law and 
Order here. He is threatening a breach of 
the Peace— the Queen's Peace ! I call upon 
you to interfere ! ” 

12 


178 tourmalin’s time tfjeqnes. 


“ I am no advocate,” said Sir William, with 
judicial calm, “ for taking the law into one’s 
own hands. I even express a hope that this 
gentleman will not carry out his avowed inten 
tion, at least until I have had time to with- 
draw, and I must not be understood to approve 
his action in any way. At the same time, 1 
am distinctly of opinion that he has received 
sufficient provocation to excuse even such ex- 
treme measures, and that the fate he threatens 
will, if summary, at least be richly deserved.” 

‘‘I think so too,” said Sophia, “ though it 
would be painful to be compelled to witness 
it!” 

“ Terrible ! ” agreed Miss Tyrrell. “ Let us 
hide our eyes, dear ! ” 

“ Stay, Alfred ! ” Miss Davenport implored, 
“ have some pity ! Think — with all your 
faults, you are a keen sportsman — you would 
not shoot even a rabbit sitting! Give Mr. 
Tourmalin a start of a few seconds — let him 
have a run before you lire ! ” 

All this time Alfred was still fumbling for 
and execrating the obstinate weapon. 

“ I decline to run ! ” Peter cried from his 
seat ; he knew too well that he could not stir a 


(fTompomtb Interest. 


179 


limb. “ Shoot me sitting, or not at all, but 
don’t keep me waiting any longer ! ” 

His prayer seemed likely to be granted, for 
Alfred had at last succeeded in .extricating the 
revolver; but before he could take aim, the 
Bank Manager and the Melbourne man ran in 
and interposed. 

“ Hold on one minute, sir,” they said ; “ we, 
too, have business with the gentleman on the 
seat there, and you will admit that it must be 
concluded before yours, if it is to be settled at 
all. We must really ask you to postpone your 
little affair until we have finished. Me will 
not keep you waiting any longer than we can 
help.” 

The Judge, with an ostentatious indiffer- 
ence, had strolled away to the smoking-room, 
probably to avoid being called upon to decide 
so nice a point as this disputed precedence; 
his daughter, Miss Davenport, and Sophia, 
had turned their backs, and, stopping their 
ears, were begging to be told when all was 
over. 

Alfred was struggling to free his pistol-arm, 
which was firmly held by the other two men, 
and all three were talking at once in hot and 


180 tourmalin’s time tljcques. 


argumentative support of their claims. As 
for Peter, he sat and looked on, glued to his 
seat by terror : if he had any preference among 
the disputants, he rather hoped that Alfred 
would be the person to gain his point. 

All at once he saw Sophia turn round and, 
with her fingers still pressed to her ears, make 
energetic contortions of her lips, evidently for 
his benefit. After one or two repetitions, he 
made out the words she was voicelessly fram- 
ing. 

“ Run for it ! ” he interpreted. “ Quick 
. . . while you can ! ” 

With his habitual respect for her advice, he 
rose and, finding that the power of motion had 
suddenly returned, he did run for it; he 
slipped quietly round the corner and down the 
passage to the other side of the ship, where he 
hoped to reach the saloon-entrance, and eventu- 
ally regain his cabin. 

Unhappily for him, the grim lady from Mel- 
bourne had noted his flight and anticipated its 
object. Long before he got to the open doors, 
he saw her step out and bar the way ; she had 
an open sunshade in her hand, which she w r as 
preparing to use as a butterfly net. 


(Eompounb Interest. 


181 


lie turned and fled abruptly in tlie opposite 
direction, intending to cross the bridge which 
led aft to the second-class saloon deck, where 
he might find cover ; but as he saw, on turning 
the corner, the Manager had already occupied 
the passage, Peter turned again and doubled 
back across the ship, making for the forecastle ; 
but he was too late, for the Melbourne man 
was there before him, and cut off all hope of 
retreat in that quarter. 

There was only one thing left now ; he must 
take to the rigging, and accordingly the next 
moment, scarcely knowing how he came there, 
he was clambering up the shrouds for dear 
life ! 

Higher and higher he climbed, slipping and 
stumbling, and catching his unaccustomed feet 
in the ratlins at every step ; and all the way he 
had a dismal conviction that as yet he had not 
nearly exhausted the check he had drawn. He 
must have at least another couple of hours to 
get through, not to mention the compound in- 
terest, which the bank seemed characteristically 
enough to be paying first. 

Still, if he could only stay quietly up aloft 
till his time was up, he might escape the worst 


182 tourmalin's time (Efyetjncs. 


yet. Surely it was a sufficient penalty for his 
folly to have embroiled himself with every 
creature he knew ; to have been chivied about 
the deck of an ocean steamer by three violent 
men, each thirsting for his blood ; and to be 
reduced to mount the rigging like an escaped 
monkey ! 

A few more steps and he was safe at last ! 
Just above was a huge yard, flattened on the 
upper surface, with a partially furled sail, be- 
hind which he could crouch unseen ; his hands 
were almost upon it, when a bronzed and 
bearded face appeared above the canvas — it 
was one of the English crew. 

“ Beg your pardon, sir,” said the man, civilly 
enough, “ but I shall ’ave fur to trouble you to 
go down agin, please. Capt’in’s strick orders, 
sir. Passengers ain’t allowed to amuse tlieir- 
selves climbing the rigging ! ” 

“ My good man ! ” said Peter, between his 
pants, “ do I look as if I was amusing myself ? 
I am pursued, I tell you. As an honest, good- 
hearted British seaman — which I am sure you 
are — I entreat you to give me a hand up, and 
hide me ; it — it may be life or death for 
me ! ” 


(STomponnb Interest. 


183 


The man wavered ; the desperate plight 
Peter was in seemed to arouse his compassion, 
as it w T ell might. 

“ I could ’ide yer, I suppose, come to that,” 
he said slowly ; “ but it’s too late to think o’ 
that now. Look below, sir ! ” 

Peter glanced down between his feet, and 
saw two swarthy Lascars climbing the rigging 
like cats. Lower still, he had a bird’s-eye view 
of the deck, about which his enemies were 
posted in readiness for liis arrival : the Manager 
exhibiting his spiked boots to Sir William, who 
shook his head in mild deprecation; the old 
lady shaking her sunshade in angry denuncia- 
tion, while her brother flourished his horse- 
whip ; and Alfred stood covering him with his 
revolver, prepared to pick him off the instant 
he came within range ! 

And Peter hung there by his hands— for his 
feet had slipped out of the ratlins— as helpless 
a target as any innocent bottle in a shooting- 
gallery, and the Lascars were getting nearer 
and nearer ! 

He could see their bilious eyeballs, and their 
teeth gleaming in their dusky faces. He felt 
a bony hand reaching for his ankles, and then 


184 tourmalin’s time Cliques. 


a dizziness came over him ; liis grip upon the 
coarse, tarry cordage relaxed, and, shutting his 
eyes, he fell — down — down — down. Would 
the fall never come to an end? Would he 
never arrive ? . . . 


CHAPTER X. 


DENOUEMENT. 

At last ! The shock was over ; and he 
feebly opened his eyes once more, to find that 
he was undoubtedly on the deck ; and, yes, the 
Bank Manager was standing over him with a 
kind of triumphant grin ! 

“ Mercy ! ” Peter murmured faintly. “ You 
— you surely wouldn’t kick a man when he’s 
down ! ” 

“ My dear sir ! ” protested the Manager, 
“ why should I wish to kick you in any posi- 
tion ? ” 

He must be fatally injured, if even the 
Manager had relented ! 

“ Is — is Alfred there ? ” asked Tourmalin, 
anxiously. “ Keep him away, if you can ! ” 

“ Certainly ! ” said Mr. Perkins. “ Who is 
Alfred?” 


186 tourmalin’s time tl)cqncs. 


“ Wliy, the — man with the revolver. I 
thought you knew ! ” 

“ Come, come,” said the Manager, “ there’s 
no man of that kind here, I assure you. Pull 
yourself together, sir ; you’re on board the 
Boomerang now ! ” 

“ I know,” said Peter, dolefully, — “ I know 
I am ! ” 

He shut his eyes resignedly. He was about 
to receive some other portion of his time-bal- 
ance. If he could only hope that no fresh 
complications would arise ! Would he meet 
Miss Tyrrell or Miss Davenport next, he won- 
dered, and how would they behave ? 

“ Haven’t you had sleep enough yet ? ” said 
the Manager. “ You’re not more than half- 
awake even now ! ” 

u Sleep ? ” exclaimed Tourmalin, sitting up 
and rubbing his eyes. “ Why, you don’t mean 
to tell me I’ve been dreaming all this time ? ” 

“ I don’t know about dreaming ; but I can 
answer for your snoring. Why, you almost 
drowned the ship’s band ! I knew what would 
happen when you would have two helpings of 
curry at breakfast. Worst thing to take in the 
world, especially if you don’t walk it off ! 


®lje Denouement. 


187 


Why, you’ve been the joke of the whole ship 
for the last half-hour. I wish you could have 
seen yourself, with your head hanging over 
the arm of your chair and your mouth wide 
open ! I thought at last it was only kind to 
wake you up. Those two young ladies over 
there have been in fits of laughter ! ” 

Peter picked up Buckle, which was lying 
face downward on the deck. His own face 
was very red, possibly from stooping, as he in- 
quired : 

“ Er — which two young ladies ? ” 

“ Can’t tell you their names ; but those two 
uncommonly nice-looking girls — one in white 
and navy-blue, and the darker one in pink. 
Dear me, I thought they would have died ! ” 
Even now they seemed to have the greatest 
difficulty in controlling their countenances, for 
happening just then to look round and catch 
Peter’s glance of confused and still somnolent 
suspicion, they buried their faces in their hand- 
kerchiefs once more, in agonies of suppressed 
mirth. 

And these were the two whom his dreaming 
fancies had pictured as tenderly, desperately, 
madly devoted to him ! The reality was de- 


188 tourmalin's time tljeques. 


cidedly disenchanting: they were very ordi- 
nary girls, he saw, after all. 

“Well,” said Mr. Perkins, “it’s not far off 
tiffin time now ; so, you see, you managed to 
get through your extra time after all ! ” 

“ Yes,” said Peter, with a little natural em- 
barrassment ; “ but I think, do you know, that, 
on reflection, I — I won’t deposit the extra 
hours after all ! If you will kindly take back 
the — the check-book,” he added, feeling in his 
pockets, “ and give me the form I signed, we 
will consider the arrangement canceled — eh ? ” 

“ It’s my belief,” said the Manager, “ that 
your head isn’t quite clear yet ; for, hang me 
if I know what you’re talking about! De- 
posit? check-book? form? What is it all 
about ? ” 

Peter colored more furiously than before. 

“It was the curry,” he said. “I wasn’t 
quite sure whether— but it’s really too absurd 
to explain. I am wide-awake now, at all 
events ! ” 

He was awake now, and knew that no time- 
bargain of this monstrous kind had ever been 
actually effected, and all the wild events which 
seemed to have taken whole months to accom- 


^Denouement. 


189 


plish themselves, were the work of a single 
hour’s indigestion ! He was still a bachelor ; 
still engaged to Sophia : he had still to make 
the acquaintance of Miss Tyrrell and Miss Dav- 
enport, and endure the ordeal of remaining for 
some weeks to come — to say nothing of the 
extra hours — exposed to the peril of their fas- 
cinations ! 

But whatever happened now, it could not be 
said, at least, that he had not received abun- 
dant warning of the consequences which might 
ensue from any yielding, however blameless or 
defensible, on his part. 

And Peter Tourmalin resolved that hence- 
forth Buckle should monopolize his attention. 


THE EPILOGUE. 


Theke are always a few inquiring persons 
who, at tlie conclusion of any story, insist 
upon being told “ what happened after that.” 
And if such a question is ever justified, it is 
so in the case of a narrative that, as in the 
present instance, ends almost at the precise 
moment at which it began. 

So it is not impossible that some readers 
may be sufficiently interested to wish to know 
the particular effect produced upon Peter Tour- 
malin’s subsequent conduct by a vision more 
than usually complicated and connected. 

Did he receive it, for example, as a solemnly 
prophetic warning, and forswear all female 
society while on the Boomerang f or was he 
rather prompted to prove its fallibility by 
actual experience? 

As to the motives which guided him, we are 


®l)e (Epilogue. 


191 


unable to speak with confidence, and they must 
be left to be accounted for by the reader’s 
knowledge of human nature in general, and 
Peter’s, so far as it has been self-revealed by 
his unconscious imagination in these pages, in 
particular. 

But the author is in a position to state with 
certainty that, when Sophia and her mother 
met the ship, as they duly did at Gibraltar, 
nothing on Peter’s part gave them the slight- 
est ground for suspecting that he was on terms 
of even the most distant acquaintanceship with 
either Miss Tyrrell or Miss Davenport, and 
that the fact of his being far advanced in the 
third volume of Buckle’s History of Civiliza- 
tion seemed to guarantee that he had employed 
his spare time on board the vessel both wisely 
and well. 

Nor did he get into any difficulties by circu- 
lating gossip concerning any matron from Mel- 
bourne, owing to the circumstance that there 
was no lady passenger who at all answered the 
description. She, like much else in his expe- 
riences, was purely a creation of the curry. 

Lastly, it may be added that Peter is now 
married to his Sophia, and is far happier than 


192 ^aurmalin’s ®ime €l)cquc 0 . 


even lie could have expected. She tempers 
her intellectuality out of consideration for his 
mental barrenness; and as yet he has never 
found her society in the least oppressive, nor 
has his errant fancy wandered back in any per- 
fidious sense to the time he spent, when freed 
from her supervision, on board the Boomerang. 


THE END. 


6 86 








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